The Biggest Part of Me
by justonemoment
Summary: When Kurt moves to New York, things don't turn out the way he expects. Some of his belongings start to go missing and before he knows it, he's met with the realization that there are borrowers living inside of his walls. Blaine, a friendly little borrower that likes to steal his hair gel, befriends Kurt and their friendships becomes a bit more complicated than planned.
1. Chapter 1

Moving to the city was a big step. In fact, the fact that he was moving at all was a big step, but pursuing a career in fashion was something Kurt Hummel was determined to do. And, well, once he was determined, there wasn't much else anyone, or _anything_, could to do stop him.

It's been a week since Kurt has moved into his brand new apartment in New York. Well, a new-_er_apartment. It's better than his old one at least; a little apartment closer to his office, more fitting after his promotion since his fashion designs have been doing so well. It's comfy and cozy, and for Kurt it is simply a dream come true. Given that his Broadway dreams had faltered since moving to the city, fashion has been something that's been keeping him grounded.

Kurt, with his strong spirit, has always had a knowledge that he wanted to do something with his life. He knew he didn't want to stay in his small hometown of Lima, Ohio. New York called his name; the lights, the fashion, the constant change.

For Kurt, fashion is a constant; something he has always kept up with. It was something he always doodled on the margins of his notes when he wasn't practicing for his latest Glee club audition in high school. It only made sense that when he didn't get into the performing arts schools of his choice that he turned to it instead.

To be honest, he thought it was fate.

The apartment itself isn't grand. In fact, it's quite small, but it almost pays for itself with his promotion and the rent not being too bad. It balances out, and he's definitely grateful for that, especially in New York.

His neighbors are really nice, Quinn and Brittany, and that is also something he doesn't take for granted. They're both blonde and charming in their own way, and while Quinn seems to have more of a head on her shoulders, he knows Brittany's intentions are sweet. He's closer to Mercedes' apartment, only a few blocks away, and Puck's guitar shop slash above apartment isn't too far off either.

He's surrounded by good friends, and DC is a manageable distance, so his dad can visit on weekends when he's not busy at his own office. In fact, when Kurt really thinks about it, it really is the best apartment he could have asked for.

Except for... _well_.

Kurt's starting to notice that things… aren't quite normal.

It's weird. Really weird, actually. At first he thought he was going crazy, a trick of the mind from being in a new place again, from adjusting to his new surroundings. But when he asked Quinn about it, she just smiled at him with her perfect teeth and told him not to worry, that "Everything would make sense eventually."

That only made him worry more.

Because things just keep moving, and he's pretty sure he's lost more sewing equipment in this apartment than he ever has in his entire twenty three years of living. And it's really difficult to finish sewing his designs if he keeps losing everything.

Over the past month he's lost five thimbles, fifteen sewing needles and three spools of thread. How, he doesn't know, but he's pretty sure his buttons keep disappearing too, because the bags seem to be getting smaller by the day. It might just be his eyes playing tricks on him, but he's not leaving anything up to chance.

His dad keeps suggesting that it's probably just the mice. Kurt thinks they must be pretty crafty mice.

Because not only is his sewing equipment going missing, leftovers of his cooking are going missing if he leaves it out on the counter for too long, and that's creepy even for him. Even his hair gel looks like something has been poking at it, or scooping it out, or something. He doesn't think anything of at it first. He thought he had been subconsciously doing it himself by accident, or that it had gotten messed up on the move over.

But now nothing is making sense. Nothing at all.

Monday night, Kurt gets home late from work. He drops his bag off by the front door, slipping it off of his shoulder and onto the floor with a heavy plop and silently hopes the tenants downstairs don't mind.

With a sigh, he heads into the small kitchen on his left, flicking the light switch on as he goes. He runs his fingers through his already disheveled hair as he opens the fridge and takes out a water bottle, taking a sip before his eyes travel towards his kitchen counters.  
His mysteriously overly-clean counters...

Kurt isn't a messy person by any means. In fact, he's often quite clean. But his counters are literally reflecting the light back at him (it's kind of hurting his eyes, actually), and he's pretty sure he _hadn't_finished his bagel this morning, and yet it's nowhere to be found where he left it on the counter this morning.

Shaking his head, Kurt puts the thought to the back of his mind and downs the water bottle before tossing it in the recycling bin. He flicks off the light switch before he leaves the kitchen, scratching his head as he makes his way down the hallway to his room. He pushes his thoughts of mice skating on cleaning cloths across his counter tops out of his mind as he does so, chalks the whole thing up to his tiredness and overwork and tells himself this is the least of his worries.

He does a half-assed skin routine for the night and almost pokes his eye out. By that point thinks that if he stays awake any longer he's going to start looking for these so called skating mice he's been making up inside of his head. He lazily changes into his pajamas, flops down on top of his bed, not bothering to actually get under the blankets, and figures he'll deal with his over-cleaned counter debacle tomorrow.

It doesn't help that Tuesday night isn't much better. In fact, it's almost worse.

Kurt opens his eyes groggily, wrapped up comfortably in the blankets of his bed. He blinks in confusion, having just been heavily asleep. He thinks it better be a pretty damn good reason, his subconscious saving him from a horrid dream that would haunt him for years to come, because he actually has the day _off_tomorrow and he can actually get some _sleep_tonight—

That's when he hears the faucet to his bathroom sink running.

Untangling himself from his blanket, Kurt raises an eyebrow in confusion and makes his way to the bathroom. He flicks the light switch on to watch as the water pours from the faucet and into the sink, down the drain and never to be seen again. Kurt watches it for a moment, his blue eyes, groggy with sleep and uncertainty are transfixed for some time before he turns the water off.

He stands there for a few moments more, his fingers lingering on the handle of the faucet, before he switches the bathroom light off with a click. He turns to head back to his room with a sigh, and that's when he swears he can hear hushed and accusatory mumbling that sounds a lot like, "_I told you he would wake up!_" and "_We just should've went to Quinn and Brittany's like usual_!"

Kurt shakes his head and rubs his eyes before he heads back to his bedroom. He doesn't even bother to look back, sure that his mind would just play tricks on him again anyway. His mind is already racing because he just heard _voices_ in his _bathroom_ where his _faucet_had turned on by itself, and he's thinking so much that he stubs his toe on his door frame and ends up knocking some of his hair products over on his vanity.

_I'll put it back tomorrow_, he thinks, and groans in frustration. He has the day off and he'll just fix it tomorrow. He'll fix everything tomorrow. Especially that damn faucet.  
Kurt crawls back into bed, wrapping himself back in his blankets with another small groan. He pulls them over his head, his mind buzzing too fast to care about the hot air he's breathing in and ignores the pain throbbing in his toes.

Maybe moving into this apartment wasn't such a good idea after all.

The next morning, Kurt almost forgets about the whole faucet situation. He gets up and the first thing he does is showers, trudging to the bathroom, dragging his feet along the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. He doesn't even bother to look at his reflection in the mirror, knowing the person staring back at him will look disheveled and unkempt; he won't bother to look until he's at least gotten a cup of coffee in his system, and even then he's risking it.

He takes a lot longer in the shower than usual, letting the water loosen his muscles and calm his nerves; he spends the majority of the time just standing under the warm spray as he lets the droplets cascade in little races down his skin, only to watch it flow down into the drain.

When all is said and done, he changes into a loose fitting pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a t-shirt from an ex-boyfriend he hasn't thrown away. He makes himself a cup of coffee and sucks it down black, the taste bitter in his mouth, before making himself another with cream and sugar just the way he likes it. He takes the warm mug gingerly in his hands before he trudges to the living room and snuggles up on his couch, blanket strewn across his lap as he browses through a magazine.

The mug is cold in his hands and the coffee long gone by the time he gets up from the couch, blanket gone from his lap as he pads back to his bedroom, considerably more awake. He changes into a more presentable outfit, even though he has no one to impress, but he figures he should get some grocery shopping of some sort done while he has the time off. And if he's going out in public, Kurt's going to do it right.

He settles for a pair of tight fitting pants and a pair of white Doc Martins before he grabs a white button up shirt from his closet. He pulls on his navy blue shall-sweater and makes his way over to his vanity before—

He blinks in surprise as he sits down, because he _definitely_ remembers stubbing his toe from last night (he can still feel the slight throbbing if he moves it the right way), and he _definitely_ remembers hearing things fall over. But his vanity is exactly how he left it before he went to sleep; _before_he had gotten woken up by his strange, mysterious faucet.

Maybe he really _is_ going crazy, he thinks, because this definitely is not normal. But, well, at least he doesn't have to _clean_. And that is definitely not a normal thought, but then again, what is normal anymore?

Sighing, Kurt gathers all of his hair products and sits down at his vanity. He runs his hands through his hair and starts his rigorous styling process. He uncaps the gel, getting some on his fingers as he starts to style, giving his hair volume before he uses his other hand to grab the hair spray (mastering the uncapping process with one hand) and his hair is starting to cooperate.

After a few more minutes of this, he's starting to like the way it looks; a little disheveled, but still well kempt. He caps the hair spray and puts it back in its proper place before he goes to grab the cap off his hair gel, but then he stops.

Because there, standing on the cap, about to reach its (his?) little hand into his hair gel, is a _little man_.

Apparently the little squeak that Kurt just heard came from his own mouth, because the little creature seems to have noticed it's been spotted. Kurt stands upright, almost knocking his vanity chair over as the little thing jerks its hand back, putting both of them firmly at its sides, and rocks back and forth on its tiny little feet, staring up at Kurt with the tiniest little hazel eyes Kurt has ever _seen_.

"Uh. Hi!" The little man (Man? Boy? Thing?) waves at him, a little bit too enthusiastically and oh shit, _it can talk_.

"Uhm." Kurt swallows, and he's pretty sure his voice is shaking. "Hello…"

"I'm Blaine!" It says to him, and goes to hold out a tiny little hand before it stops itself and retracts, wringing its own hands together in front shyly instead.

Kurt watches as it— _Blaine_, he reminds himself now, bites his bottom lip as he looks almost anywhere but Kurt, as if trying to figure out something to say.

Blaine seems to take particular interest in his shoe, which looks like it's made of plastic, and Kurt's eyebrow would raise itself higher if it were physically capable. It's then that Kurt takes in the rest of the man (_Blaine_)'s appearance. He notices how Blaine's clothes hang loose on his body, like they're not particularly made for him, and he swears he can see the hint of a Velcro clasp behind Blaine's neck. He can't be taller than a standard water bottle, Kurt thinks, if that. And besides the fact that he's just extremely vertically challenged, he doesn't seem any different than any other human being.

"Are you wearing _Barbie clothes_?" Kurt blurts out and of course that would be the first thing he asks. Blaine seems a bit taken aback, and he blinks up at Kurt before he starts laughing. The sound is surprisingly loud in Kurt's ears; not quite as loud as a normal person's, but still quite audible for a person of his size.

"Not necessarily," Blaine smiles, bright and shining up at Kurt, and Kurt can't even _believe this_. "They're Ken's clothes or something. At least, that's what Brittany says, anyway. And they're a lot more comfortable than the things we've made out of washcloths—"

Kurt sits back down on his vanity chair with a _plop_ staring at this small, little man on his vanity table in awe. So _this_ is what Quinn was referring to, how everything would make sense. Things going missing, the cleaning of his counters, the faucet, the _voices_…

"Sorry about the hair gel, by the way," Blaine's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and Kurt looks back at him, his gaze having traveled off to the products behind him. Blaine seems to take a tentative step towards him, off the cap of the hair gel and onto the vanity itself, still wringing his hands in front of him, seemingly not wanting to scare Kurt away. Like Kurt was the smaller, more vulnerable creature involved here.

"It just works really well on my hair. It's kind of hard to control, and well. You have so much of it, and I don't really need that much and I didn't think you would mind, and well…"

"It's okay," Kurt says before he realizes what he's even saying, but before the words are fully even out of his mouth, Blaine is smiling again. But Kurt doesn't even know if this is okay. He's talking to a miniature person on his vanity, in his apartment. This isn't _normal_, this isn't supposed to be okay…

"Okay, good!" Blaine pipes up, visibly more relaxed. "I was worried. Santana said you would probably get mad, but I knew you probably wouldn't, you seem like a nice guy and—"

"Wait, who?" Kurt asks, and Blaine blinks back up at him again, having stopped mid-sentence.

"Santana!" Blaine beams, "She's my friend. She lives here with me."

Kurt blinks.

"Not here in your apartment!" Blaine corrects himself, putting his hands put in front of his chest, palms facing Kurt in his defense, backtracking, "Not specifically, anyway." He shrugs, now, hands finding their way comfortably beside him, resting on his thighs. "In the walls of the building. It's where all the Borrowers live."

"There are _more_ of you?" Kurt can barely fathom the existence of one small person, and yet there are _more_? But Blaine nods excitedly at his question.

"Oh yeah! Santana, Rachel, and everyone else!" Blaine seems to like the fact that Kurt is taking an interest and not shying away or trying to squish him with his hairspray can.

"Does everyone else in the building know about you?" Kurt feels like he's asking a lot of questions, (he's sort of entitled when it comes down to it) but leans a bit closer to the vanity to listen to Blaine's answers.

"Almost," Blaine tilts his head as he smiles wider now, "But we mostly just hang out with Quinn and Brittany. And the two little girls in 3C."

Kurt raises an eyebrow.

"Why 3C?"

"They have Disney movies!"

Three hours end up passing with Kurt sitting at the vanity table, Blaine animatedly explaining things about the world in which he lives in, which is coincidentally Kurt's world, just from a whole other perspective.

Kurt finds the whole thing, while all unusual, rather interesting. He listens as Blaine talks about climbing into the apartment of 3C through the little hole in the wall behind the couch, and how he and Rachel (another one of his other tiny friends) like to sing along to the animated movies with the little girls (who are really nice and like "share their popcorn without us even having to ask!"). Blaine explains about how they sometimes have to steal food from other people's apartments when Quinn and Brittany forget to leave some out when they're running late for work, or when they feel bad asking for some.

"And the clothes?" Kurt asks, because he feels obligated. Blaine seems to automatically rub behind his neck to the Velcro portion of his shirt.

"They're Brittany's Barbie's clothes or something. I'm not sure of the specifics," he shrugs as he smiles, and Kurt swears he can see the little borrower's cheeks go a feint red. "But it's better than what we used to wear; tied dishcloths and scraps of fabric." Blaine scrunches his nose at the thought and can't help but let out a small laugh.

In all honesty, Kurt feels like he's living in a dream.

Eventually Blaine has to go, something about meeting Rachel and her being really impatient and moody when he's late. So they part ways, Blaine climbing down the leg of Kurt's vanity with an amount of skill Kurt has only seen from mountain climbers on the Travel Channel, and disappears under Kurt's dresser before he pokes his head back out, waving his little hand and says, "See ya later, Kurt!" and disappears fully again.

Kurt sits at his vanity for a few moments after, blinking slowly.

There are _borrowers_inside his walls.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" Is the first thing Kurt asks when Quinn opens the door. He figures, somewhere in these walls, Blaine and the rest of his family, clan, _whatever they are_, can hear him, but he doesn't care.

"Nice to see you too," Quinn rolls her eyes at him, but smiles nonetheless as she moves in her position in the doorway, allowing him access into her apartment.

Kurt stares at her for a moment, eyes an icy grey, before he steps inside. He makes his way to the living room, crossing his arms and taking a stance in the middle of the room as he turns and stares at Quinn who follows him.

She laughs.

"You were going to find out sooner or later," she smiles at him, her smooth voice on the verge of breaking into giggles. Kurt tries to stare through her but fails.

"Yeah, well…" He trails off and Quinn puts her hands on her hips. "You at least could've warned me!" He counters, and Quinn rolls her eyes again.

"Listen," Quinn says and makes her way towards him before she sits on the couch. "You wouldn't have believed me anyway."

Kurt knows she's right.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, can feel Quinn staring at him when he closes his eyes.

"So what does this mean?" he asks, because he's really confused right now. There shouldn't be borrowers in his walls, they shouldn't be stealing his hair gel and cleaning his counters…

"It just means that you're going to have to get used to it," she smiles at him, plain and simple, as he looks back at her across the room. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he can't quite fight the small smile that tugs on his own lips as she heads to the kitchen.

"Where's Brittany?" he asks after a while, sitting at Quinn's kitchen table as he lazily flips through a magazine. "I haven't seen her since I got here all of fifteen minutes ago. Normally she'd be causing some sort of trouble."

"She's giving everyone a bath," Quinn replies nonchalantly as she comes back into the dining room area, pouring water into their teacups on the table.

"Excuse me?"

Looking up from his magazine, Kurt curiously raises his eyebrow as he stares at her.  
"I'd be helping her if you weren't here," Quinn admits, giggling, "That's probably what's taking her so long…" She trails off and goes to put the tea kettle back in the kitchen as Kurt spins in his chair to face her, mouth agape.

"They take _baths_here?"

"In the bathroom sink,' Quinn says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and Kurt stares, dumbfounded, as he tries to understand the concept.

"_Listen_, Kurt," Quinn says to him again with a sigh and runs her thumb over his cheek. "I know it's a lot to take in. But you have to understand that, well, this is the norm here. It's actually a lot more normal than you think. And if…" She sighs and moves her hand from his face and runs it through her own blonde curls. "And if you think you can back out now, well. It's a little too late for that."

Kurt watches with furrowed eyebrows as she heads to the bathroom and closes the door behind her.

The winter air is hitting the city more and more each day, autumn slowly being taken over. It's not cold enough to put on the heat in the apartment, so Kurt sits on his couch, curled up with his sketchbook settled on the blanket on his knees. He taps the eraser on the paper, his brain buzzing with the finalization of his sketch idea.

His mind is restless; _he's_restless. He hasn't seen Blaine for two days, not since his talk with Quinn. He wonders if that's had anything to do with it. Or if it even happened at all.

"Of course it happened," he had told himself. "It was real and it happened and you can't keep fooling yourself. _He's_ real… _they're_real…"

Kurt's been kidding himself if he hasn't been leaving the cap of his hair gel a little more loosened than usual._Just to see if there are scoops out of it,_ he thinks. _Just to make sure._And there are, so he knows that he didn't imagine it. But after those three hours of talking with Blaine on his vanity and then nothing, well… Kurt's sort of missed him…

"Well that looks cool," Comes a voice from his left and Kurt nearly throws his sketchbook across the room.

Blaine looks up at him, frozen, with tiny hazel eyes that are blown wide from Kurt's reaction. He seems to brace himself, regaining composure and steadying himself on the top of the couch before he breaks into a smile.

"Sorry, sorry!" he laughs and Kurt just stares, wide eyed with his face flushed pink before he finds a way to breathe again. "I didn't mean to scare you!"

"A little late for that," Kurt breathes, trying to get his heart rate back to normal, and he runs his hand through his hair as he smiles and composes himself before he settles the sketchbook neatly back onto his lap.

"Sorry," Blaine apologizes again and sits down on the top of the sofa, hands at his sides as he smiles up at Kurt again while Kurt stares back with curiosity, still not sure how the tiny little man before him actually_exists_.

"What's that sketch for?" Blaine asks as he points to the drawing in Kurt's lap with his tiny little foot and Kurt notices he's not wearing shoes today.

"Work," he replies and Blaine hums in acknowledgement.

"It's really good," He praises him, and Kurt doesn't quite know how to react.

"What do you do, exactly?" Blaine tilts his head to the side as he looks back up at Kurt and he's _definitely_gotten back into Kurt's hair gel again.

"Design clothes mostly," he shrugs, "Sew a lot, put them together. Meet with clients and do the whole thing over again. In the fashion world I'm kind of a big deal," he jokes, but Blaine's little eyes go wide again, this time in what appears to be amazement.

"So you're, like, famous?"

"Not really. But hopefully someday."

"I hope so, too."

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, Kurt sketching a new piece on the paper in his lap before Blaine gets fidgety and starts humming a little tune, strumming his fingers on the upholstery of the couch.

"Quinn told me you stopped by the other day," he says after a bit and Kurt stops his sketch, biting his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Yeah…"

"Sorry…"

"For what?"

"Not telling you sooner. You know. About me, about everything..." Blaine's voice is small, even for his size, sincere and sad as he looks up at him and Kurt can't stop staring into those little eyes of his. He doesn't understand how such a tiny person can seemingly be filled with so much emotion. "Introducing myself, I guess."

"It wasn't like you could have thrown me a housewarming party," Kurt smiles, "I'm horribly picky about decorations."

Blaine seems to relax a little bit, but Kurt can still tell his little mind is racing.  
"I just don't want you to be mad at me. Or at Quinn or Brittany or—"

"I'm not," Kurt reassures him, "It was weird at first. I didn't really know or understand. I'm not even sure if I still do understand this, but. I'm not mad. Confused, yes, but I'm not mad. I promise."

"Well that's good," Blaine smiles sheepishly and trails his fingers on the couch again before he looks back up at Kurt. "I'm glad."

Work is busier than normal; designing a spring collection is more difficult than it looks, Christmas seems to be just around the corner and Mercedes has been trying to get him to go out to the bar with him for quite some time now.

"After Christmas, 'Cedes, I swear. It'll be a great way to end the year," Kurt promises and Mercedes shoots him a pointed look as they walk down the hallway, coffees in hand.

"Oh really?" she asks, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Kurt swears even the clicking of her heels on the floor are dripping with the sound of diva.

"Would I ever lie to you?" He smiles down at her and kisses her on the cheek before she smiles back, shaking her head as she makes her way to her office.

Kurt goes into his own office and sits at his desk, unfolding his sketchbook and grabbing swatches of fabric from his cabinet. His collection so far is severely lacking anything with inspiration, but Blaine had said his sketches were _good_so he'll go with that. He doesn't know why that makes any difference, but for some reason it does.

Sighing, he runs his hands through his hair and stares at the papers scatted on his desk, lines upon lines of drawings and appointments, clients.

It was going to be a long day. A very long day indeed.

Fifteen clients, one almost spilled coffee, and a skipped lunch break later, Kurt is finally out the door of his office. Bag over his shoulder, he makes his way down the hall, eyes (and hair) drooping, dragging his feet across the tiled floor before he reaches the elevator.  
"You finally out too?" he hears Mercedes' voice from behind him, and Kurt leans against the wall, pressing the down button for the elevator.

"Don't you know it," he sighs and watches the little orange button light up as she laughs, rubbing his shoulder.

"Boy, you look like you got hit by a freight train," she smiles.

"I _feel_like I got hit by a freight train," Kurt laughs as the ping of the elevator sounds and the door opens. He pushes his shoulder off the wall and walks in, trailing after Mercedes as she presses the button for the ground floor. "I'm just glad today is over with."

They say their goodbyes in the lobby, Kurt promising Mercedes at least a shopping trip sometime in the next week, and Kurt wants nothing more than to be back home in his apartment after a long day's work.

"How was work today?" Blaine asks between bites as he sits cross-legged in front of Kurt at the kitchen table. He has a small plate next to him (Brittany had brought extras over for him the other day "Just in case!") that Kurt has topped with mini slices of carrots. He dips them into the small bowl of ranch dressing that's placed next to it and takes a tiny bite.

"Busy," Kurt sighs and shoves a fork full of salad into his mouth. They've fallen into this routine now, over the past few weeks. He's not sure how it happened really, but it just… has. And he enjoys it. Blaine stops by when Kurt gets back from work and they talk. Blaine asks him about his day, makes googly eyes over his sketches, and they talk until one of them (or both) falls asleep on the couch.

Kurt doesn't mind. In fact, he enjoys the company. He thinks it would be a lot more normal to go spend more time with Quinn or Brittany, but he figures they understand. From what Blaine tells him, Quinn spends most of her time with Rachel when she's not with Brittany or working, and Santana and Brittany have quite the relationship of their own.

"Between almost spilling coffee on a clients orders, my boss telling me that my collection is the 'most looked forward to thing in the company this season', and being pressured into going out next week by Mercedes… I'd say I'm lucky to be home in one piece," Kurt sighs and rests his head in his hand for a moment, propped up on his elbow leaning on the table.

He looks down at Blaine who hums in acknowledgement as he chews, and for some reason it makes Kurt smile, his lips pulling tight before he takes a sip of his water sits up straight in his seat again.

"What?" Blaine asks, mid chew with his cheeks puffed out before he swallows, and Kurt shakes his head.

"Nothing."

"You're weird." Blaine smirks before he dips another piece of carrot into his dressing and takes another bite.

"Coming from the man who's five inches tall," Kurt smiles and points his fork down at Blaine who furrows his little eyebrows with a pout on his lips.

"Five and a _half_." Blaine retorts and points a small finger up at Kurt in retaliation.

"Oh, I'm scared now,"

"You should be," Blaine laughs and takes another bite with what Kurt assumes to be a vicious attempt. It only makes Kurt laugh, the water he took a sip of threatening to come out of his nose.

"I'm serious!" Blaine counters after he swallows, standing up and walking over to Kurt's plate, "I could put like, rat poison in your food or something!"

"You wouldn't," Kurt is coming down from his giggle fit, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes. "You'd miss me too much."

Blaine crosses his arms and stares up at Kurt for a moment before he smiles, big and wide across his face before he laughs.

"Yeah, well. Maybe a little bit."

When Kurt meets Santana it's really the last thing he's expecting. It's like meeting Blaine all over again. It's just as shocking, perhaps even more so, because this time he's naked and wrapped in a towel, fresh out of the shower.

And yet, there she stands, un-phased, on his bathroom sink counter with her hands on her tiny little hips, seemingly determined as ever.

"So _you're_Kurt…"

"U-uhm, yes?" he stammers, cheeks flushing red as he tightens the towel around his waist a little more. "Exactly how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," She muses, a smirk tugging at her lips and Kurt thinks he's going to die right then and there in his bathroom.

"Can I, uh, help you with something?" He asks, becoming extremely aware of the way her tiny eyes seem to be burning holes into his skin as they trail over his body and suddenly he's very self conscious of himself.

"Sort of," she trails her fingers along the hot water handle of the sink, staring down at it with seeming fascination. "Do you plan on going anywhere?"

"Excuse me?"

"Leaving," she clarifies, turning to face him now, and suddenly Kurt feels like the smaller person. "Do you plan on leaving this apartment anytime soon."

"Like for lunch?" His voice is higher, and not nearly as sarcastic as he wants it to be, but it's all he can manage under her gaze.

"You know what I mean."

"Am I getting a 'best friend' talk right now?"

"Listen to me," Santana walks towards him on the counter, brandishing one of her fingers in his direction, particularly at his face. "If you hurt him, Hummel, I swear, I can do things to you that you'll—"

"Okay, okay!" Kurt literally backs up to the adjacent wall, hands up projecting his chest. "I'm really confused right now, but okay!"

Santana sighs, running her fingers through her raven hair and composes herself, mumbling something about, "Should've had the hobbit do this," but Kurt's too busy listening to the thrumming of his heart in his ears to concentrate on anything else in particular.

"Okay, listen. Blaine is… trusting. Too trusting. He'd basically trust a gang member if they promised him a good time," she waves her hand before she places it on her hip. "What I'm trying to say is… He's been through a lot. People have hurt him before, and he still hasn't learned his lesson."

"Listen...Santana, right?" She nods up at him with slightly softer eyes, her eyes becoming softer as she had started talking, and Kurt makes his way back to the sink counter, still feeling awkward in his towel.

"I'm still getting used to all of this. I still don't even really know what's going on, but, what I do know is that I enjoy his company. I enjoy living next to Quinn and Brittany's apartment, visiting and talking about all of you." He smiles at her raised eyebrow.

"I know you're close with Brittany. And I haven't met Rachel yet, or any of the others, mostly because Quinn didn't want to shock me even more. But I know that when that time comes, I'll be able to fit into whatever… _this_is. I'm trying."

"Okay, Doll face," she smiles weakly and shakes her head. "I guess that's a start."

"Why do you look like you got hit by a bus on the way to work this morning?" Mercedes' voice sounds from the door of his office and Kurt groans.

"You wouldn't believe the morning I've had even if I told you," Kurt continues to sketch with a quick glance up at Mercedes who makes her way over to his desk.

"That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea." He stops sketching and rests his chin on his hand as his elbow rests on the desk. "What's new?"

"I just came to give you this," Mercedes smiles as she puts a freshly bought coffee on his desk.

"'Cedes…" Kurt takes his head off of his hand and looks up at her.

"I'm the best, I know." She rolls her eyes and smiles and Kurt sighs.

"You have no idea."

Mercedes' coffee delivery does the trick and Kurt's work day is considerably brighter. He finishes most of his sketches for almost all of his clients, gets an early lunch break with Mercedes, and by the time he gets back to his office, his mind isn't so… jumbled.

So even as he sits with his third cup of coffee at two thirty, his mind isn't thinking about the hours left in his work day, or the weekend ahead. He simply just concentrates on the sketch in front of him, what colours he plans to use, what fabrics, until—

"Hello there!"

Kurt jumps in his seat, startled by the small voice so close to him. It takes him a moment to find the source of the noise, his eyes immediately going to the closed door of his office, before they dart down to his desk where two little arms are waving to him.

"You have got to me kidding me." Kurt sighs and the small girl standing on his desk gives him a pout.

"Well that's rude," she huffs and crosses her arms over the ridiculous animal sweater she's wearing and Kurt blinks.

"I really don't have time for this,"

"Rachel."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm Rachel."

"Well that's nice and all, but, to be quite honest, I started off my day by meeting Santana in my towel this morning. And if you couldn't tell, I'm working right now." Rachel tilts her head to the side as if she can't understand him and Kurt sighs.

"So I can't really do this at the moment." Kurt protests, but there's a fire in Rachel's tiny little eyes that makes him slightly uncomfortable in his seat as she taps her tiny foot on his desk. "How did you even get here, anyway?"

"Your bag," Rachel states simply, uncrossing her arms and moving them to rest on her hips. "I was in there most of the day, you know. It was really uncomfortable."

Kurt sighs and rubs his temples, the stress coming back as Rachel drones on about Blaine not introducing them soon enough.

"I really thought it was my obligation as his best friend to introduce myself, but he didn't think you could handle it. But with the way Quinn says you've been handling everything it's only fitting that we be introduced! Santana told me I should wait a while after she met you this morning, but I simply told her that I would be fi—"

"You sure do talk a lot, don't you?"

Rachel stops talking and blinks up at Kurt as her cheeks go a faint red and she ducks her head down. Kurt feels bad and he bites his bottom lip before he leans back in his chair.

"Sorry, it's just... Let me just call Quinn or something and see if she can come and get you or—"

Rachel's head perks up at Quinn's name and Kurt's eyebrows rise.

"She'll be at work, too," she mumbles, and picks at the bottom of her hideous sweater that Kurt wants to throw into the giant trash can the homeless people use as a fire pit in the alley way down the block. "I wouldn't want to bother her, y'know, with her being so busy and all…"

_But you're okay with bothering me. _

Rachel toes at the side of Kurt's sketchbook and he sighs, long and heavy.

"Fine," he agrees, "I guess you can stay."

Rachel beams up at him and claps her little hands excitedly. She even bounces a little, and Kurt can maybe, kind of, sort of forgive her a tiny bit. Maybe.

"Fantastic! I have so many questions for you! For example, would any of these people you work with have any great connections for me when I make my way to Broadway?"

"What?" Kurt blinks.

"When I grow to an acceptable human height I plan to become a famous Broadway actress. To do so I need to have satisfactory connections into the industry." Rachel beams, matter-of-factly, and nods her little head ever so slightly to prove her point.

This was going to be a long rest of the day.

"So you see, Kurt, _that_is why Barbara is the greatest singer-slash-actress-slash-human-being that ever lived." Rachel declares from her perch on Kurt's palm and Kurt sighs as he walks down the hallway.

"You'll see one day, Kurt." She nods and Kurt rolls his eyes as she looks up at him with her big, brown, hopeful eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure," he sighs and makes his way to the door before Rachel pipes up again.

"W-wait, aren't we going to your apartment?"

"No."

He knocks on the door, loud and echoing in the hall before it opens to reveal Quinn. She smiles for a moment, before she notices Rachel in his palm, and her expression turns thoroughly confused.

The blonde looks between Kurt's face and his hand for an instant as Rachel shifts uncomfortably in his palm, twirling her hair between her fingers. Kurt waits for a brief moment before he takes Quinn's hand with his own free hand before, by her distasteful Barbie sweater, places Rachel in Quinn's palm.

"Please control your tiny girlfriend," he says simply before he makes his way back to his own apartment, leaving Quinn dumbfounded in her doorway, Rachel red-faced and clinging to her thumb.

He receives a few text messages from Quinn later that day, many of them containing the word "_Sorry!_" and the phrase "_It won't happen again! I promise!_" and by dinner time he's mostly gotten over it. It's not like he was truly mad in the first place. A bit annoyed, perhaps, but not anything extreme. It's not like Quinn had anything to do with it in the first place. And Rachel really did mean well…

He receives a text from Quinn again, quite some time later after he had left both girls standing bewildered in the doorway, and his phone is buzzing beside him on the couch.

_Rachel wants to know if you forgive her yet. _

Kurt sighs with a smile and replies back.

_It's really hard to stay mad at either of you, do you know that? Tell her yes, but she can't ever come to work with me again._

He pauses before texting her back again.

_Ever._ He adds. _Her being seen in public could've been disastrous._

_Awee, you do care! –From everyone_

_Shut up._Kurt texts back before he rolls his eyes and tosses his phone lightly beside him on the couch again. He flips the stations on the TV absentmindedly for a while, but it's not too long before his phone buzzes again.

_Santana is jealous that Rachel got 'special treatment' by getting out of the apartment and not her. She wants you to make it up to her._

_What am I supposed to do about it?!_

_Come over for dinner._

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Quinn asks as she puts the plates away in the cabinets that Kurt is handing her after they've finished dinner, and he shrugs and hands her another.

"Back to Ohio for me. Or, well, that's the plan, anyway," Kurt grabs another plate from the drying rack to hand to her and looks to Quinn. "What about you?"

Brittany comes into the kitchen from the living room with Santana perched on her shoulder, like some odd sort of parrot, and Kurt smiles.

"Staying here." Quinn smiles as she places the last plate away and turns to face everyone, leaning back against the counter behind her. "Nothing fancy."

"I'd like to go see Lord Tubbington," Brittany sighs, twiddling her thumbs in front of her, "But it's just easier to stay here for the holidays."

Kurt raises and eyebrow and looks back at Quinn.

"Her cat back home." She smiles, "She's really attached."

"Ah." Kurt nods and casts her glance, earning him a glare from Santana which he takes as a warning to drop the subject. "Noted."

"Also that way Santa knows where to bring all of my presents, since I've been here longer." Brittany trails off, and Quinn gives her a reassuring smile.

Kurt looks down at Blaine on the counter where he's sitting in a soap dish, watching the bubbles float up from the sink with mild amusement and smiles. Blaine seems to notice the eyes on him and turns to look at Kurt and smiles back, bright and shining, and Kurt feels a small tug at the pit of his stomach.

"Hey, Doll face!" Santana's voice pulls him back and he looks over to where she's now standing on the counter next to Rachel who's smiling up at him. "Let's go put in a movie! Your pick!"

"I could've cooked you know," Kurt says as Puck picks up his legs to move them out of his way before he sits down, putting Kurt's legs across his lap and settling down. "I did buy you those pots and pans for a reason."

"Naw, dude, don't worry about it," the other man says and shrugs. "Besides, I don't understand why you cook of that fancy food when you could have _pizza_," he says pointedly at Kurt, holding up his food to show Kurt who rolls his eyes.

"From _New York_," Puck continues with emphasis before he takes a ravishing bite. Kurt scrunches his nose before he takes a bite of his own slice, chewing quietly. "It's like, tradition or something."

"Remind me why I hang out with you?" Kurt raises an eyebrow and opens his water bottle as Puck practically stuffs another slice of pizza in his mouth.

"Because I got you here?" he asks, making it sound more like a statement, after he swallows a loud, squishy swallow that makes Kurt cringe again.

"Actually, I think your truck got me here, after we ran out of gas…"

"Say what you want, Hummel," the other man shrugs again and reaches to the coffee table to grab some more pizza.

"You're a pig, Noah!" Kurt laughs and pushes up on Puck's stomach with his legs, "You're going to get sick!"

"If you keep doing that I will!" Puck pokes Kurt's leg and Kurt swats his hands away.

"Be careful!" he almost squeaks, "Not with your greasy pizza hands!"

"Dude," Puck laughs, "We need to get you _laid_."

Kurt pouts and folds his arms over his chest and Puck smiles, grinning from ear to ear before he takes another bite of pizza.

"I hate you."

"Then get off my couch,"

Kurt scowls before he brings his foot up slowly and hits the bottom of Puck's pizza plate, tilting it sideways and the other man fumbles, trying to regain the balance with one hand.

"Dude, my _pizza_! Knock it off!"

"That's my point!"

Puck gives him a scowling look and moves his pizza to the other size of the couch, far away from Kurt's reach.

Kurt smiles, bright and innocent before he takes another bite of his pizza and Puck scowls.

"Definitely need to get you laid…"

"Who says?" Kurt pouts and leans over, putting his pizza plate on the coffee table.

"I do."

"And who says I'm not?" he asks, raising his eyebrow and Puck laughs.

"If you were you wouldn't be so _bitchy_all the time," he says and Kurt scowls again. "You need to lighten up, dude! You work too hard!"

"Do not," Kurt mumbles and pulls out his phone, texting Mercedes.

_Puck says I work too hard._He texts and rests his phone on his chest as he leans back, crossing his ankles in Pucks lap.

_You do._Mercedes texts back and Kurt frowns.

"I dunno, dude," Puck says after a while and sighs, leaning back against the couch as he drapes one arm along the back. "I just think you need someone to take the edge off,"

Kurt gives him a look and Puck holds up his hands, backtracking.

"Not just sexually, dude, like. Intellectually and whatever…. with all of that stuff you like." He shrugs. "You just need to unwind."

Kurt sighs, tapping the back of his phone with his fingers and pursing his lips before he leans over, pressing his face into the back cushion of the couch.

"I do work too hard, don't I?" he says and Puck laughs as he reaches over and ruffles his hair.

"You're free to, you know, stay here more often," Kurt suggests over his shoulder as he folds his laundry on his bed later that night. Blaine observes from the vanity, catching Kurt's glance in the mirror as he fixes his hair with a bit of Kurt's gel.

"What do you mean?" the borrower asks, raising his little eyebrow and Kurt shrugs as he pairs some socks together.

"Since you always seem to hang out here with me and you never seem to want to go back to Quinn's when the girls are all together, I figured, well…" he shrugs again and folds a shirt. "You might just want to stay here instead. But if you don't want to, I mean. That's totally understandable—"

"I'd love to," Blaine smiles and turns around excitedly, clasping his hands in front of his chest. "Can we bring my bed over tomorrow?"

"Sure," Kurt smiles, "But are you sure Rachel won't mind?"

"She'll know where to find me." Blaine says with a thrilled smile as he bounces on his toes.

"Okay, fine," Kurt says and turns around, "But you have to tell her." He tells him, pointing a finger at tiny brunette while a brandishing an unpaired sock in his clenched fingers, and some of the colour drains from Blaine's face as he stops bouncing.

"So your dad is getting time off from work for Christmas?" Blaine asks a few nights later, kicking his little feet as he watches from a safe distance from his seat in the cabinet above the stove, observing Kurt with keen eyes from above as he cooks.

"That's the plan," Kurt says as he lowers the heat on the stove. Back to Ohio for Christmas was indeed the plan; spending the holidays with his dad, Carole and Finn miles away from his little New York apartment.

"It'll be nice to see everyone," he smiles up at Blaine who smiles back, "It's tough, with my dad and Finn in DC so much. Carole gets lonely a lot, so it'll be nice to be together for Christmas."

"That'll be fun," Blaine chirps and leans forward a bit to get a better look at Kurt stirring the sauce in the pan.

"If you consider the fact Carole and I will be kicking Finn out of the kitchen to make sure he doesn't burn the house down, then yes. It'll be loads of fun." Kurt laughs and adds a few more spices.

"Cooper almost got eaten by a cat once," Blaine shrugs. "Merry Christmas!" Blaine mock waves his little hands in front of him and rolls his eyes.

"Who?" Kurt asks, walking away from the stove to go to the other cabinet to get some more supplies.

"My older brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Well, yeah…"

"You never told me that," Kurt looks at Blaine over his shoulder for a second and Blaine shrugs for a moment a smiles a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I don't tell you a lot of things."

"Keeping secrets huh?" Kurt smiles and Blaine looks up to the ceiling as he smiles. "As your roommate, I'm offended."

"So we're roommates now?"

"Well, let's see…" Kurt puts a few more spices into the pot and stirs. "We share food, you take up a spot in my bedroom, and you're always here when I get back from work." He scrunches up his face as he smiles when he looks back up at Blaine. "So, yes. I would say that we're roommates."

"Well," Blaine stands and holds on to the inside corner of the cabinet. "If we're roommates, am I obligated to pay half of the rent? Because I don't really know if I can do that."

Kurt laughs, loud and echoing through the kitchen and shakes his head.

"No, no, I think I'm all set with that." He smiles, "Thanks for the offer, though."

"Good. Then I think things will all work ou—oh—!"

It's then that Kurt watches, with wide eyes and almost in slow motion, as Blaine leans too far from the cabinet, his foot slipping from underneath him. His little hands lose grip on the side of the cupboard and Blaine is falling, down, down, down towards the large boiling pot on the stove.

Kurt watches then as his own hand reach out on its own accord, not having time to think. His other hand drops the spoon it's holding, also reaching out and grabbing a hold of Blaine, gripping the Velcro fabric of his stupid, stupid shirt.

He fumbles, almost losing his grip, and uses both hands before he has a good hold on Blaine. Tiny, tiny Blaine, who was just mere inches from falling into the boiling pot below him. Kurt tugs the borrower close to his chest, cradling him as he falls back against the counter and sinks down to the floor, breathing heavy.

"Oh my God, Blaine, are you okay?" he breathes as he looks down, moving one of his hands to get a better look at the small body cradled against his chest. "Did I hurt you, oh my god, are you okay? Blaine, please answer me!"

His voice is frantic, much higher than normal, because he's scared. He's scared of the silence, scared that he hurt Blaine somehow in the process of saving his life (and in the back of his mind he wants to laugh somehow at the cruel irony). But as he looks down, he can see Blaine's little hands fisted in his apron, clinging and desperate for something solid to keep himself locked down and safe. His small eyes are wide and blown and fearful and Kurt can feel his small body trembling against his chest, shaking and terrified.

"Blaine… Blaine, it's okay," he whispers, and uses his right hand, the one that's not resting under Blaine and holding him to his chest, to rub his thumb gently against Blaine's small, trembling shoulder. "It's okay, I've got you. I promise."

Blaine lets out a choked sob and Kurt hushes him, holds him as close as he can without seemingly hurting or crushing him, and rubs his fingers in soothing circles on Blaine's back.  
They sit like that for a long while, Blaine's shaking subsiding slowly over time, but his grip is still tight on the fabric of Kurt's apron. The tile of the floor is cold and hard, while the handles of the cabinets are pressing into Kurt's back, and the food on the stove long forgotten and probably ruined, but none of that is of any concern.

"Blaine, let go of the apron," Kurt whispers, soft and gentle, but Blaine's fists remain clenched and curl themselves even harder into the fabric. "It's okay," Kurt says again and Blaine's eyes scrunch up tight before they open wide again.

"I won't let you fall," His voice is stern, because he needs Blaine to know, to understand that he's serious; he needs Blaine to know that he's there for him. "You're not going anywhere. I've got you."

Blaine's hands slowly unhinge themselves from Kurt's apron, like a kitten's claws that don't want to let go. Kurt gently tugs him, and Blaine latches onto Kurt's thumb, cheek pressed against the pad of the appendage as he curls into himself on the palm of Kurt's hand, clinging tightly. He stares up at Kurt with those same wide eyes, and it's all Kurt can do to stay strong.

"I'm…I'm sorry," It's then that Blaine finally finds his voice, rushed and rambling, eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry," he chokes. "It was the pants, they were too long and I… I was just trying to see, I wasn't paying attention and I… oh my god… oh my god…"

"Hey, hey," Kurt shushes him and cradles his other hand around Blaine, securing him in a hand-made cocoon for the time being. He can feel Blaine's grip relax slightly while his body settles into his touch at the contact. "It was a mistake. It could've been worse, but it wasn't. It's okay."

Blaine nods, weak and teary-eyed, and Kurt sighs with a weak smile.

"What do you say to ordering take out and watching Aladdin tonight?" he asks and Blaine lets out a shaky laugh as he wraps his arms tightly around Kurt's thumb again and snuggles his face more against it, brushing his nose against the skin.

"Sounds good."

"Just… do me a favor," Kurt says after he gets up, biting his lips as he looks at Blaine who stares back curiously with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." He breathes and Blaine's cheeks flush and he coughs with that Kurt thinks must be of embarrassment.

"Deal… And Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

The next few days, there's a shift in the air between them. Blaine takes his time perfectly scaling up and down the couch, careful to stay away from the edges of things, holding tightly and making sure he has a grip on everything. A safe route.

Sometimes Kurt will offer him his hand, lifting him up to his destination with ease and vigilance, careful not to move too fast or offer too much assistance. He doesn't want to scare Blaine; he knows that he has to still do things on his own, knows that he's not always going to be there if Blaine needs something. But for now, he does what he can; because he doesn't ever want to see Blaine that fearful again.

A week later, even though it pains his wardrobe to do so, Kurt comes home with a polo shirt. When Blaine raises an eyebrow at him from his perch at the kitchen table where he's sitting, Kurt gives him a smile.

"C'mere," he says, holding out his hand and Blaine complies, a confused expression still on his face as he stands in Kurt's palm, bracing himself against Kurt's thumb.

But when Kurt leads his hand up, stopping at the pocket, Blaine's eyes widen in understanding.

"Hop in!" Kurt chirps and Blaine looks up at him, blinking a few times and Kurt giggles. "Go on!"

Blaine climbs into the pocket with Kurt's help and he settles in, holding onto the fabric as he leans back against Kurt's chest.

"Wow…" Blaine breathes and Kurt laughs.

"What?"

"It's… warm." Blaine says.

"What, you're not going to comment on the view?" Kurt can't help but laugh and Blaine looks up at him sheepishly.

"Well, that's nice, too, but. I dunno. It's just. Comfortable." Safe.

"Well, good." Kurt beams. "This way, when I'm cooking or wandering around the house, we don't have to worry about any…" Kurt waves his hand absently in the air. "Accidents."

"I like this plan." Blaine smiles.

"Oh, and one more thing," Kurt smiles and brings out a tiny-sized bag from his work-bag, Blaine watching him intently from his pocket as he does so, and puts it on the table.

"What's that?"

"You won't know until you open it." Kurt smiles and holds his hand out so Blaine can escape his pocket.

He places Blaine, who, once back onto the table walks over to the small bag curiously. Once he inspects it, he moves back the small amount of tissue paper, and Kurt laughs lightly as he watches the little borrower's eyes go wide.

"Kurt…"

"I had extra time at work today," he explains as Blaine takes out the small pair of pants from the bag and examines them. "Perfectly tailored, no Velcro involved." He laughs a little again and Blaine looks up at him, his eyes still wide.

"Kurt, you… you didn't have to…."

"Oh, but I did." He insists. "After… after what happened last week… You need to wear things that aren't going to put you in danger, Blaine," he says softly. "Besides," he smiles, "Those Barbie clothes do nothing for your figure."

Blaine pulls out a small shirt next, followed by a sweater. His eyes seem to be growing wider by the second and Kurt's afraid that they're going to pop out of his little head.

"How much extra time did you have at work today?" Blaine asks, seemingly trying to still put the pieces of everything together inside of his brain.

"Two clients missed their appointments. So a fair amount of time," Kurt shrugs. "I could've done something else, but I wanted to do this. For you."

'Thank you," Blaine breathes. "Really."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Try them on!" Kurt moves the small bag out of the way of the table, smiling from ear to ear. "I want to see how my impeccable sewing skills look on you!" he beams and Blaine blushes.

"F-fine. But you have to… turn around first." Blaine makes a twirling motion with his finger as he points to Kurt.

"Okay, okay," Kurt huffs, but he smiles and turns around in his seat.

"And no peeking!"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say."

Kurt bites his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing, but he's pretty sure the shaking of his shoulders gives it away.

"Are you done yet?" Kurt asks and Blaine huffs from behind him, laughing.

"You're so impatient."

"And you're slow. C'mon!"

"Okay, okay! You can turn around."

Kurt turns around in his seat to see Blaine standing awkwardly on the table, stretching his arms out beside him as he holds the ends of the shirt sleeves in his hands.

"So?" he asks, his voice small, but his smile hopeful. "How do I look?"

"Wow…" is all that Kurt breathes for a moment and Blaine blushes. "They need some small alterations, but Blaine… Blaine, you look…" Kurt trails off and Blaine twirls around.

"At least the pants are short enough," he laughs and Kurt laughs, too.

"At least the pants are short enough." He repeats. "Maybe too short."

"No, no, I like them!" Blaine smiles.

"One more thing," Kurt reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small piece of fabric, handing it to Blaine.

"I thought it completed the outfit," he explains and Blaine looks down between the fabric in his hands and up at Kurt with wide eyes again. "And I had some leftover fabric."

"You made me a bowtie?" Blaine asks; his voice so soft Kurt almost doesn't hear him.

"Yeah, I mean…If you don't like it, I can—"

"No, I…I love it." Blaine looks back up at him and smiles wide and Kurt can swear his heart is going to burst inside his chest.

"And it has a little clip, so you don't even need to worry about tying it or anything,"

"Kurt," Blaine laughs and Kurt tilts his head as he watches Blaine on the table.

"What?"

"You're the best."

"You're not too bad yourself."


	2. Chapter 2

"Watch it, Hobbit!" Santana snaps as she dodges a laughing Rachel who slides her way past her on the dining room table.

"I take it you three are enjoying your new socks?" Kurt asks as he finishes his sewing from the couch, side eyeing the three little borrowers with a smile.

"Definitely!" Rachel squeals in excitement as she slides to a stop, grabbing a hold of Blaine's arm for a moment in the process to keep her balance.

"Just don't hurt yourselves, okay?" Kurt warns, "Otherwise Quinn will never forgive me."

"We'll be perfectly safe," Rachel holds up her right and as Blaine get a running start before he slides across the table. "Scouts honor."

No sooner do the words leave her mouth does a small bang sound from the table followed by a small "oof!" Rachel winces and Kurt looks over to see Santana leaned over Blaine who's sitting on the table, gently rubbing the side of his leg.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I promise!" he laughs, waving over at Kurt. "Really!"

Kurt gives him a slightly disapproving look, but smiles nonetheless before he gets back to sewing, the three borrowers sliding back and forth across his dining room table. It's not long before he's so wrapped up in his work that he doesn't notice when the front door opens.

"Uhm…"

He looks up to see Mercedes and Puck standing halfway between him and his dining room table, eyes wide and staring. Blaine, Santana and Rachel have the same expression on the tiny little faces, frozen in place.

"What the hell are those?" Puck asks, and Rachel squeaks, foot slipping from underneath her and falling down on the table. Blaine and Santana seem too shocked to be able to help her, but Rachel doesn't seem to mind as she continues to stare up at Puck and Mercedes from her now seated position on the table.

"I can explain," Kurt jumps from his seat and makes his way to the table. "They're friends, okay, trust me. They won't hurt you."

Blaine is the first to break the silence, stepping forward, cautiously, and Kurt isn't sure if it's because he's scared of Puck and Mercedes or scared because he's afraid of falling in his socks.

"I'm Blaine," he says softly, wringing his hands together in front of him, much like he did like the first time he met Kurt. "And these are my friends Rachel and Santana," "Don't tell them my name!" Santana hisses from behind him, and Kurt can see Puck's eyebrows rise to his mow hawk.

"We're friends of Kurt's," Blaine ignores her comment and continues.

"And we'd really appreciate it if you didn't squash us!" Rachel pipes up from where she sits, earning a hearty laugh from Mercedes.

Kurt gives her a warm, relieved smile and relaxes as he feels Blaine smiles up at him. "Do you have time for a story?" Kurt asks, hopeful, and Mercedes beams back at him as Puck's lips pull into a grin, peeking over Mercedes' shoulder as Rachel stands up with Blaine's helping hand and gives him a small, sheepish wave.

"I'll go make the popcorn."

The next day at work Kurt makes his way to his office, sipping on his non-fat mocha before he adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

"So how's Blaine?" comes the sing-song voice of Mercedes to his right.

"And good morning to you, too, Mercedes," he replies, giving a small eye roll in her direction before he sips his coffee once more.

"Oh, stop," she bats his arm playfully, "He's adorable. I can't believe you didn't tell us about them all sooner." She says before she takes a sip of her own coffee.

"Right, because that's a perfectly normal topic of conversation," he reports, opening the door to his office as she follows him, grinning. "Hey, Mercedes, I've befriended the tiny people that I have living inside of my walls. Want to go on a shopping spree? Meet you in five!" He waves his free hand before he sets down his bag on the floor and leans on his desk, crossing his ankles.

"Boy, you need to not be so hard on yourself," the girl smiles and Kurt sighs. "I would've thought you were crazy, but you know damn well I would've listened."

Kurt knows she's right, but he also knows it's more than that. He takes another sip of his coffee and swallows hard, but he smiles up at Mercedes nonetheless.

"Thank you," he says quietly and she reaches over and pinches one of his cheeks lightly.

"You're welcome," she says before she turns and heads out to her own office, leaving Kurt with a heavy mind and a churning stomach full of coffee.

"You can come out from behind the salt shaker," Kurt says as he pours water from the tea kettle into the cup on the counter. Blaine's laugh, small and timid, sounds to his ears as he appears rubbing the back of his neck, seemingly nervous.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I just wasn't sure if you were busy or not. I didn't want to intrude." He wrings his hands in front of him again and Kurt's beginning to wonder if it's a nervous habit.

"Not at all," Kurt insists and lets his tea steep as he leans against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest loosely as he smiles down at the tiny borrower. "What's going on?" "Santana pushed Rachel during bath time, and she fell in the sink and almost drowned so now everyone is fighting." Blaine rushes out in one sort of awkward breath and Kurt blinks before he laughs as he pictures it all in his mind.

"Did she deserve it?"

Blaine down casts his eyes as ears go red and he nods slightly before he looks back up at Kurt, a smile tugging lightly at his lips.

"A little bit."

Kurt hums in agreement before he picks up his teacup and takes a sip.

"So what about the whole bath situation?" he asks and Blaine shrugs his little shoulder. "Wait until later, I guess." He plays with the bottom of his shirt for a moment before he shrugs again. "It's no big deal."

Kurt places his tea cup on the counter along a large, empty coffee mug in front where Blaine is standing on the counter before he walks away, leaving Blaine blinking and confused. He returns a moment later carrying a small container of what appears to be soap.

"What is that?" Blaine inquires, eyeing the bottle curiously before Kurt places it on the counter.

"Bubble bath!" he says happily before grabbing the bottle again and the tea kettle, holding them both above the coffee mug and pouring until the mug is full with warm water and white, sudsy bubbles.

"There!" Kurt beams, and places the kettle and the bubble bath down before his hands find their way to his hips in satisfaction. "Your very own personal bubble bath, courtesy of Kurt Hummel."

Blaine sits in the coffee mug, completely submerged in the bubbles the surround him, save for his head.

"Comfortable?" Kurt smiles down at him as he sips his tea, and smile beams up at him, water reflecting off of his eyelashes.

"Very!"

"It's not too hot?" he asks and Blaine shakes his little head, the water in the mug shaking slightly with his movements.

"Not at all, it's great!" He brings his arms up the play with the bubbles, his tiny shoulders peeking out from between the white froth as he takes some in his hands, and Kurt swears the tiny borrower is more like a small child than an adult as he watches Blaine takes in a deep breath and blows the suds away.

"This is a lot better than what usually happens at Quinn's," Blaine says after a while, but he's still smiling as he bats at what's left of the bubbles with his tiny, pruning hands. "Why's that?" Kurt asks, getting a few small washcloths ready on the counter for when Blaine decides to step out.

"It's never just me time, y'know? It's always sharing with Santana or Rachel, or both…" he trails off, "It's not like I don't mind, they're both great, it's just. Sometimes I wish I could do more things for myself without it being so… hectic." He waves his hand, trying to get his point across, before he gently plops it back in the water as he smiles softly up at Kurt, who returns the gesture.

"C'mon," he says, holding up the washcloth. "You're as wrinkly as a raisin in there. Let's get you out."

With Blaine all dried off and cozy in his pajamas, they settle down and watch a movie for the rest of the night with the tiny borrower snuggled up in the pocket if Kurt's shirt.

"There's something I need you to do for me," Kurt says as he walks into the guitar shop the next day, taking the hood off of his head from the rain outside, and Puck raises an eyebrow.

"Hello to you, too," Puck says from behind the counter and Kurt sighs and crosses his arms. Puck does the same.

"I'm serious, Noah!" Kurt presses and Puck smiles as he uncrosses his arms.

"Fine" He says, "What do you need?"

Kurt puts the paper down on the counter.

"Can it be done before Christmas?"

"Where were you today?" Blaine asks from his perch on Kurt's refrigerator, and Kurt laughs.

He grabs a water bottle from the fridge as Blaine pouts down at him.

"Concerned about me?"

"Quinn was asking."

"Sure she was." Kurt smiles up at Blaine and offers him a hand. The little borrower steps carefully onto it, holding onto his thumb as Kurt moves him to the counter space.

"Fine," Blaine sighs, "I was bored. The most exciting thing I did today was play fetch with the lady bug that lives in the plant in Quinn's window. And that got boring real quick." He steps onto the counter and straightens out his shirt before he crosses his arms. "So what did _you_do today?"

"I was visiting a friend," Kurt says and takes a sip of his water as he leans against the counter.

"One of the two from the other day?" Blaine asks, raising his eyebrow before the light flickers and goes out completely, leaving the apartment in darkness.

"Well that's no fun…" Blaine pouts, blinking, and Kurt uses the light on his phone to find the candles and matches.

"I didn't think the storm was that bad," Kurt says after as he sits in a chair in the kitchen checking his phone for the weather while Blaine sits on the counter next to a candle with his feet dangling off the edge. "But apparently the power is going to be out all night."

Blaine hums in acknowledgement as he watches the candle burn above him. Kurt places his phone on the counter and sighs before he stands up and starts rummaging through his cabinets.

"What're you looking for?" Blaine asks.

"These," Kurt smiles and places two bags of marshmallows on the counter near Blaine with a box of toothpicks.

"What're we going to do with these?" he asks, and Kurt leans over and turns on the stove, the flame rising up.

"Roast them!" he says with a smile and Blaine looks up at him curiously. "We might as well make the most of this, right?"

"Not too close!" Kurt warns, concerned, as Blaine sits near the stove, holding his speared mini-marshmallow close to the open flame with a smile on his face.

"Trust me, I'm close enough! It's really hot over here." Blaine laughs and wipes his forehead with his hand real quick before grabbing the toothpick with both hands before the marshmallow falls down.

"Do you need me to turn it down?"

"No, don't worry about it," Blaine smiles up at him and Kurt continues to roast his own marshmallow on the open flame below.

"Thanks," Blaine says after a while as he picks at the marshmallow, his little hands sticky from the treat. Kurt smiles softly as the lights come back on.

"You're welcome."

Sitting in his bed after the storm, curled up in his pajamas with his skin regimen completed, Kurt settles down with a book. His bedside lamp, now that the power is back on, is the only source of light in the small room, and not including the sounds outside and his breathing, the room is silent. Only when he flips the pages of his book does anything really make any real noise.

He's about halfway through the book, about to flip a page when he feels something touch the back of his head, tiny and solid.

"Hi Blaine," he says before he turns the page and keeps on reading. He hears Blaine laugh behind him and feels the hairs on his head being tugged as the little borrower fully and securely finds his way, so Kurt doesn't dare move.

"Kurt, your hair is like a _jungle_," Blaine says as he starts to walk from the back of Kurt's head to the front, and Kurt can feel each step he takes, can feel each foot as Blaine steps on his scalp.

"Finding any animals up there?" Kurt asks and smiles while closing his book, the sensation of Blaine on his head sends tingles down his spine.

"Not yet! But is sure does smell like hair spray up here. I might just die from the fumes!"  
Kurt rolls his eyes and smiles.

"Like anyone could even _walk_through your hair if they tried, with all that hair gel you put in it." He waves his hand dismissively, not like Blaine can see it, because he's in the middle of the top of Kurt's head at the moment, fully engulfed in his hair.

"Ha ha _ha_," Blaine jokingly laughs and keeps walking forward and Kurt keeps smiling, picturing Blaine doing the same. "Has anyone ever told you how _thick_ you hair is, Kurt? Seriously, I don't even know where I_am_."

"Well you're almost to my forehead now, if that's any help," Kurt looks up, slightly tilting his head back as Blaine's foot reaches his forehead as he speaks.

"Found you!" Blaine smiles, and all of a sudden Blaine's small, smiling face is in his line of vision, his little hands gripping onto locks of Kurt's hair as he bends downward, with his tiny feet at Kurt's hairline, as hazel meets blue.

"You certainly did," Kurt smiles and Blaine smiles back, crinkles forming at the edges of his eyes. "But I better not find any marshmallow in my hair from earlier, Blaine Anderson!"

"You won't! Blaine giggles as Kurt holds out his hand and Blaine climbs into it, slowly letting go of Kurt's hair before he's scaling down Kurt's nose, one foot in front of the other, arms stretched out to his sides before he reaches Kurt's hand.

"I hope not," Kurt lowers his hand to the blanket covering his lap after Blaine hops into it and Blaine climbs out onto the fabric and sits down, getting comfortable.

"Today was fun," the little borrower smiles up a Kurt.

"It was," Kurt agrees and Blaine traces little patterns on the blanket with his fingers.

"I'm glad that we got to spend time together… The two of us like that. It was nice… It reminded me of stuff like Coop and I used to do."

Blaine pays attention to the way his finger trails along the fabric, not looking at Kurt's face now, but Kurt can still the feint trace of a smile on his lips.

"That's kind of why I thanked you earlier. It's just nice to have that feeling again, y'know?"  
Kurt smiles down softly, and there's a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watches as Blaine slowly stops his pattern making on the blanket and looks back up at him with a weak smile.

"Well, any time you want to roast some marshmallows again, my stove is always open for business." Kurt smiles.

"Promise?" Blaine asks, the corner of his mouth tugging into more of a smile and the butterflies in Kurt's stomach multiply.

"Promise."

"So I have that thing you asked me for," Puckerman says before he takes a bite of his bagel and rips it with his teeth, and Kurt is torn between making a face of disgust or kissing him on the mouth from across the table.

"Are you serious?"

"You asked me for it, didn't you?" Puck says, and Kurt's surprised he actually has he decency to speak_after_he swallows his bagel.

"Are you talking about Blaine's Christmas gift?" Mercedes asks and Puck turns in his chair to fetch something from his coat pocket.

He places the little box on the table and Kurt just stares, holding his coffee between his hands.

"Well?" Puck asks, "Aren't you at least gonna take a look at it?"

Kurt glances up at Puck, before he leans back in his seat and sighs.

"I don't know! This is all so nerve-wracking!" He admits, "It just… it needs to be perfect."

"Questioning my skills, bro?"

"I'm sure that's not what Kurt means, Puck," Mercedes eyes Puckerman before she puts a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder. "I'm sure what Kurt means is that it's a special gift… and it's just something that has higher expectations than normal. Right?" she sends Kurt a soft smile and Kurt nods, before he leans forward.

"Just open the box."

"You know, I still haven't figured out where you hid my Christmas presents," Blaine says before he takes a bite of his special tiny-sized cookie as he sits on the kitchen counter. He looks over at Kurt who takes the final sheet of cookies out of the oven and places the rack on top of the stove to let them cool.

"Who says I even _got_you a present?" Kurt laughs as he puts saran-wrap over the already cooled cookies, small and large to give to Quinn and the others for Christmas.

"You definitely got me a present."

"Let's go watch a movie," Kurt changes the subject and the brown haired borrower simply rolls his eyes before he agrees and hops into Kurt's outstretched hand.

"Fine." He says, "But you know I'm going to find them eventually."

About halfway through the movie, there's a little yawn from the pocket of his shirt, and Kurt looks down the see the little borrower slouched down, droopy eyed and dozing off.

"You okay in there?" Kurt's lips pull into a smile, and so do his heart strings.

"Just a little slweepy…" Blaine says as he rubs his eyes with his tiny, clenched hands. He yawns once more and cuddles closer to the warmth of Kurt's chest through the fabric, nuzzling his nose into Kurt's torso to hide his face from the light.

There's a smile stretched across Kurt's lips as he watches Blaine get comfortable, and he turns his attention back to the movie after a few moments. But by the time the movie is over, the TV screen blue as he presses the stop button the remote, Blaine's breathing is slow and even and the tiny borrower is fast asleep nestled inside the pocket against Kurt's chest.

Biting his bottom lip, Kurt gets up carefully from the couch, his movements slow. He doesn't want to wake Blaine up, or frighten him by moving around too quickly, so he simply does a quick but efficient (and especially quiet) skin care and bedtime routine.

He skips changing into his pajamas, although he does feel a bit un-clean for doing so, (and he'll definitely have to iron his pants two times over the next time he wears them) he figures Blaine will appreciate the favor if the slight snoring coming from his pocket is any indication already.

Before getting into bed he props up all of his pillows, cocooning himself in a pillow-type throne, then he turns off his light and he slowly and carefully gets into bed, one hand cupped over his shirt pocket to keep Blaine from moving prior to settling down and pulling the blankets over his legs and up to his chest, right up the bottom of the chest pocket of his shirt.

With his head rested back against the pillows, Kurt's eyes dart down to where he can feel Blaine try and inch closer to his chest, tiny hands gripping into the fabric, before he closes his eyes.

"Goodnight, Blaine."

_I told you, it's safe here, bro!_

Despite all of Puck's reassurance, Kurt isn't entirely sure that Blaine's gift is safe. Sure, Puck is trustworthy. It's just… this is important.

_Somehow I don't believe you._

He takes a sip of his coffee as looks over his shoulder to check for Quinn in the busy coffee shop before his phone buzzes on the table.

_I made it for him, didn't I?_

_Touché._

He types back before Quinn is pulling out from the spot across the table, coffee in hand and eyebrows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" he asks and she sighs.

"Nothing,"

"Clearly it's something." He presses, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table.

"What is it?"

She pauses, taking a long, hot sip of her coffee that clearly doesn't do any favors for her taste buds, before she purses her lips.

"It's Rachel," she admits. "We've been fighting a lot lately… more than normal," she clarifies and Kurt raises his eyebrows in understanding as he takes a sip of his own coffee.

"I just wish she would see there's more to life than Broadway," she sighs and Kurt rolls his eyes.

"I've known Rachel less than six months and I know that's a slim chance," he says, but he takes Quinn's hand gently across the table. "But what I do know is that she cares about you as much as she cares about the big ol' Way." He smiles and Quinn visibly softens.

"Really?"

"Really. You want to know what she said to me the other day? And I quote, '_I bet the models you design for are pretty. But not as pretty as Quinn. Quinn is the prettiest girl I have ever met._'" Kurt does his best to imitate Rachel's voice and Quinn is smiling from ear to ear from across the table, "'_She could do great on Broadway, you know. She's very talented. Not as talented as me, of course, but very talented for sure._'" He finishes and pats her hand gently as she wipes away a stray tear with the back of her other hand.

"See? You have nothing to worry about. You and Rachel are going to be _fine_." He reassures her and she smiles at him, giving him a light hearted laugh.

"And consider that one of your Christmas presents because I am never doing that again," he says as he leans back and sips his coffee again, Quinn's laughter filling the coffee shop.

"Do you think he's dead?" Rachel's voice sounds to his ears and it takes Kurt a moment to register that he's still lying on his back on his bed, having fallen asleep while packing for his trip home to Ohio for the holidays. As he feels three sets of feet walk on the mattress around his head, he lies still, faking his sleep.

"Should we poke him or something?" comes Blaine's voice next, followed by Santana's distinctive sigh.

"He's sleeping, you dimwits" she says and it's all Kurt can take to keep calm and remain still as he lies on his back and keeps his breathing steady.

Slowly, he opens one of his eyes and looks over to see Santana with her arms crossed, presumably looking over at Blaine and Rachel, before he closes it to not give away his position.

"But his room is _messy_, Santana," Blaine says somewhere near his right ear, "His room is never messy." He can feel Blaine shift a bit, stepping closer on the mattress. "It's kind of creepy, actually…"

"You think we could take this time to look for our Christmas presents?" Rachel pipes up from behind his head someplace, slowly making her way towards the left side of his head where Santana is located. "They must be here somewhere in all this mess!"

"Not even close." Kurt says then, startling all three borrowers, earning him Rachel's scream directly in his left ear.

"What the hell, Hummel?" Santana winces as she covers her ears, looking up at him as he sits up, turning to face them all.

Blaine starts laughing from where he's seated on one of Kurt's folded shirts, having fallen backwards, and Rachel's tiny foot is sticking out from a pile of clean socks behind Santana.

"So what did you _mean_they're not here?" Rachel asks later, finally out of the sock pile as all three borrowers sit on Kurt's vanity table.

"They're not here," Kurt smiles and folds another shirt before putting it in the suitcase on his bed, slowly but surely dwindling the pile. "You can search all you'd like," he says, "But you won't find them until Christmas."

"Well you're no fun," Santana crosses her arms, her ponytail falling across her shoulder.

"Just one little peek… pleaseeee?" Blaine begs, pouting out his lips and swinging his little legs.

Kurt rolls his eyes and packs a few more shirts and a couple pairs of socks as he ignores the constant badgering from the tiny human beings on his vanity table, much to all of their disappointment.

Boxes litter the floor, tissue paper scattered across the rug and Christmas music gently croons from the speakers of the stereo of Quinn's apartment. Kurt hangs another brightly coloured bulb on the Christmas tree in a carefully selected place, not too close to the other ornaments on the tree, but not too far away.

"Decorating is in art," his mother had once told him as a child, "You have to handle it as such,"

His dad had always roll his eyes with a smile, but Kurt, starry eyed and impressionable, had taken his mothers words to heart, and had always followed through every year, making their tree look better and better every year, even with her passing. As well as getting to decorate his own tree once he eventually gets back to Ohio, he admires his carefully placed ornament with a small smile.

"This one next!" says Rachel from arm stand of couch, and she holds up a bright purple bulb to Quinn who takes it gently from her little arms, smiling.

"Brittany, you're supposed to _string_the popcorn, not eat it!" Santana sighs as she sits on the side of Brittany's knee who sits cross-legged on the other end of the couch, bowl of popcorn in her lap. "It's to hang on the tree!"

"But why does the tree get to eat the popcorn and not me?" Brittany looks down at her inquisitively before she pops another piece in her mouth and Kurt watches as Santana rests her head in her hands in defeat.

He and Quinn exchange a smile before Blaine's voice grabs their attention somewhere in the midst of the tissue paper.

"Hey, guys, are you sure we're going to have room for all of these?" he asks as he scans the ornaments that are scattered across the couch, boxes still left unopened that are filled with decorations.

"We'll just have to pick the ones we like the most," Quinn says as she hangs the purple ornament Rachel had handed her on a more open spot on the tree.

"When are we putting up the _star_?" Rachel inquires, her eyes wide and sparkling, the lights from the tree reflect off of them as she looks hopefully up at both of them.

"You mean when are _you_putting it up?" Santana pipes in, and Rachel gives her a shooting glare from across the couch, crossing her tiny arms across her chest.

"Yes, Santana, like I do every year. Just because it is a _significant_metaphor for my life doesn't mean you get to mock me… Especially so close to Christmas!" she huffs.

"Now, now, you two play nice," Kurt smiles as he hangs up the blue ornament Blaine hands him, "Or I'll put up the star myself."

"You wouldn't!" Rachel gasps, throwing her arms to her sides, stamping her little foot on the arm rest. "I put it up every year, Kurt it's _my job_—"

"Rachel, relax." He laughs and pats her tiny head before he takes the green ornament from Blaine's outstretched arms. The other borrower bites his bottom lip to keep his smile contained at Rachel's expression and he turns back to choose another ornament to give to Kurt.

"I'm only joking."

Kurt can't help but laugh at her expression and Quinn giggles softly next to him, hand pressed gently to her mouth to try and stop the sound as an embarrassed Rachel's cheeks match the shade of pink of the ornament she picks out next and hands to Quinn to hang up on the tree.

"A little more to the left!" Blaine says from Kurt's shirt pocket, watching as Rachel fumbles with the star at the top of the tree. Quinn stands watch on the step ladder, looking over her to make sure to catch her if anything goes seriously wrong.

Rachel's got her tongue between her teeth as she pushes the decoration into the exact, perfect position on top of the tree, her feet planted on the branches below her.

"Perfect!" Blaine shouts to her, and Kurt can see her smile from where he stands as Quinn scoops her up and brings her down the ladder on her shoulder.

"Now Santa will know exactly where to put the presents," Brittany beams and Santana rolls her eyes with a smile from her perch on the blonde's shoulder, but there's a fondness in her eyes.

"Thanks, Rachel!"

Once everything they didn't use is picked up and packed away back in the closet, they're all sitting back in the living room, sipping hot chocolate and eating cookies, the radio still playing music quietly in the background.

Brittany is snoring softly, sprawled out face down on the couch as Quinn and Kurt sit on the floor at the coffee table as Rachel, Santana and Blaine are warming their hands on the candles.

"Do you have everything packed for tomorrow?" Quinn asks before she takes a sip from her mug, holding it tightly in her hands.

"I think so," Kurt says, eyebrows raising before he takes a sip of his own. "I hope so."  
Rachel picks a piece of wax off of the candle nonchalantly before she steps around it and sits on the table in front of Quinn.

"You dropped off everything you needed to, right?" Quinn asks, and Kurt knows she's referring to the presents that were hidden in her closet, tucked away so the three little borrowers now on the table couldn't sneak their way into the hiding place.

"Yep, everything is there." He says and takes another sip of cocoa, letting it warm him from the inside. The lights from the tree and the candles illuminate the living room and he smiles, knowing that he'll get to have this feeling with his family back in Ohio soon enough.

"You miss them, don't you?" Blaine asks, and Kurt looks down to see the little borrower sitting in front of him much like Rachel is doing to Quinn. Santana is leaning against one of the candles, watching Kurt.

"I do," he admits, and Santana's eyes go back to watching Brittany sleep. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to miss all of you when I'm not here."

"Are you sure you can't stay with us?" Quinn asks the next day as they stand on the sidewalk and Kurt smiles as he gives her a hug, holding her tight.

"I'm sure," he pouts and gives her shoulders one last squeeze before he lets go, letting out a sigh. "But I'll see you in two weeks. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it," she smiles and pinches his cheek lightly before they part ways, Kurt's taxi waiting to take him to the airport back to Ohio.

Once he's settled, he watches the buildings from the window, tall and reaching towards the sky as small snowflakes gently flurry from the sky. As the taxi drives slowly into the city, Kurt makes a mental check list. He knows he dropped off Mercedes' gifts, and Puck's. He left Quinn, Brittany, Blaine, Rachel, and Santana's gifts all at Puck's apartment so he could bring them over to be opened on Christmas morning. All of his family's gifts have been mailed, and the few small ones he bought are in his suitcase…

While he's making a list to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything else important for the fifth time at the airport, his phone rings in his pocket, jogging him from his thoughts.

"Hey kiddo," His dad's voice sounds in his ear when he picks up his phone. "You at the airport yet?"

"Just about," Kurt checks his watch and the traffic in front of him, "I should be there in about ten minutes. Why?"

He hears his dad sigh on the other end.

"I'm sorry, bud, but they're keepin' us late here, things are backed up a few days, and I can't get out of it this time, I—"

"You have to cancel Christmas this year, don't you?"

There's a moment of silence and Kurt can practically see his dad scratching the back of his bald head in his fancy suit he looks so out of place in. They haven't spent a Christmas apart in twenty-three years. Ever since his mom died, they've made it more and more important to stick together, to make the holidays count…

As he grew older it got more and more difficult, with Glee club, his dad getting his job in the office, and then going off to college in New York. Growing up didn't mean they had to grow apart, and for the most part they've stayed close, which is more than anything Kurt could have dreamed. They share a close bond, and Kurt knows that this is the most difficult thing his dad has ever had to do.

"You know I wouldn't unless I absolutely had to."

"It's okay, dad," he swallows, his hand gripping tighter around his cell phone. "I understand. Don't worry about it."

"We'll get together soon okay?" He can almost hear his dad's heart breaking on the other end, the sick irony making his stomach twist, like his father would rather have him be angry about the situation than understanding about the whole thing.

"Tell Carole and Finn Merry Christmas."

"Will do, bud. Love you."

"Love you, too."

After he ends the call with his dad and tells the taxi driver his change of plans, slightly wincing at the cancelation fee for his plane ticket as he clicks "confirm" on the screen of his phone, Kurt finally makes it back to his apartment without too much damage to his wallet. With a sigh, he lugs his suitcase up the stairs and places it next to the door inside, hangs up his coat and tries to ignore the empty feeling that's sitting in the pit of his stomach.

He knows his dad didn't mean it, and he knows that, truly, at the moment it's not quite helping his nerves.

With a quick check in the bathroom mirror at his reflection, he heads out the door again and goes next door. He can hear music coming from inside, Quinn and Mercedes' laughter and the sound of muffled voices on the other side of the door.

When he knocks, the voices get softer, and the footsteps of whoever is coming to greet him become louder as they reach the door.

It ends up being Quinn, who looks at him with confused, wide eyes as she takes in his appearance at the doorway, probably having expected him to be on his flight back to Ohio by now. But her expression softens as she seems to understand, and he smiles back with slumped shoulders and she pulls him into a warm hug that he graciously returns.

"Come on in."

Quinn leads him into the living room, arm linked loosely with his, and when they round the corner to the living that's room lit with low-lit Christmas lights and the brightly lit tree in the corner, they're also greeted by the surprised but smiling faces of Puck, Mercedes, and Brittany.

"We have a surprise guest," Quinn smiles gently up at him before she turns to the rest of the room and lets go of his arm. A half-hearted smile tugs at his lips and he twiddles his thumbs in front of him, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Mercedes gets up from her seat on the couch with a mix between a pout a smile on her lips as she makes her way over to him, and she wraps her arms tightly around him, squeezing him tight.

"Welcome back, boo," she says into his ear, and Kurt hugs her back with a gentle laugh.

"Hey, bud," he hears Puck say as he feels a hand clap him on his shoulder. "I'll get'cha a beer, yeah?"

Mercedes pulls back and rolls her eyes as Puck makes his way to the kitchen, but Kurt smiles as his name is called from the other side of the room.

"Kurt!" Brittany smiles over at him as she kneels on the floor in front of the brightly lit Christmas tree that's in front of the window on the other side of the living room.

"Wait, it's only Lady-Hummel?" comes a slightly smaller voice also in Brittany's general direction. Out from behind Brittany's neck, Santana pokes out her head. Brushing away locks of Brittany's blonde hair out of the way, Santana makes her way to stand back on the blonde's shoulder where she must have been before Kurt had knocked.

"Hey there, Doll Face," Santana grins and gives him a little wave. "Long time no see!"  
Kurt goes to make a comment about how she looks phenomenal in the black and white dress he sewed for her before—

"Wait, Kurt's here?!" Chirps in another voice from the general area and Kurt spots the golden star on top of the Christmas tree rustling before Rachel emerges from behind it, her tiny arm starts waving at him vigorously.

"Hi, Kurt!" she shouts down to him in her bright green dress and Kurt gives her a little wave before his eyes happen to come across two hazel ones staring at him from the center of the tree.

"Kurt!" Blaine says excitedly as he sits atop a rounded, blue ornament hanging from one of the branches. "You made it!" he smiles as one of the pink lights wrapped around the Christmas tree gives him a pink glow.

"I thought you were back in Ohio with all of the other unicorns!" Brittany pipes in again, and Kurt tears his gaze away from Blaine to look at her. Even though there's a tight flip of his stomach from his disappointment, he smiles at Brittany's innocence and accepts the drink that Puck (somewhat forcibly) places in his hand.

"Change of plans," he shrugs. "So I came to celebrate with all of you."

"Perfect timing, too," Quinn returns to the living room holding multiple brightly coloured bags on her arms. "We were just about to open presents!"

Quinn and Mercedes are fawning over their new scarves and boots while Puck is gawking over some new leather jacket Quinn found at a thrift store that was "totally bad ass, dude!"

Brittany is sitting in the center of the room, taking all of the bows off of the wrapping paper and is sticking them in her hair. She's smiling from ear to ear as Santana and Rachel watch from the table, laughing from behind their hands.

Blaine looks over his shoulder, watching the scene and laughs before he turns back and looks at Kurt. He swings his feet lightly as he sits on the edge of the table and smiles.

"Last year she tried to wrap herself back up in the leftover paper and mail herself to the North Pole," Blaine tells him and Kurt smiles, laughing a bit as Brittany sticks a bow on her nose.

"It didn't work out so well."

"I can imagine," he says, and rests his elbows on his knees before he pauses for a moment and reaches beside the couch, next to the tree and pulls out a small box topped with a bow and hands it to Blaine.

The little borrower raises his eyebrows curiously before he takes a hold of it in his arms and places it in his lap, balancing it carefully.

"For me?" he asks, looking down at the box and then back up at Kurt.

"Nothing too special," Kurt shrugs his shoulder, rolling his eyes a bit nonchalantly with a smile. "Open it."

Blaine blinks a few times before he shakes his head and laughs, shrugging his shoulder.  
"Okay. Okay, fine."

It takes him a few moments as he sits back fully on the table, maneuvering the box to sit in front of him, before he finally manages to get the box open.

When he does, Kurt bites his bottom lip in anticipation, fingers laces together as Blaine simply stares into the box, eyes wide.

"…So?" Kurt asks, stomach clenching. "Do you like it?"

"Kurt…" Blaine says looking up, eyes misty and wide, "I… I love it." He smiles, bright and beaming before he reaches down and takes the small, shining guitar out of the box. "I really don't know what to say…"

"Merry Christmas, Blaine." Kurt says and Blaine smiles as he strums the strings of the guitar lightly.

"I don't want to take away any of my boy's thunder here, but, that's one of my best works," Puck interjects as he leans over on the couch from beside Kurt, and Blaine's smile couldn't possibly get any wider unless it stretched off of his face.

"I just… _how_?" Blaine asks, admiring the handy work of the small instrument and Puck laughs.

"It was tough," the other man admits. "But Kurt here insisted that it be done for you, so of course I couldn't let him down." He says and he bumps his shoulder lightly into Kurt's before Kurt pushes him back lightly.

"Because to you know I would've kicked your ass." He says as he pokes Puck in the shoulder pointedly.

"Okay, okay, that, too."

"Can you teach me?" Blaine asks Puck, and Kurt takes it as his cue to go talk with the girls with a smile.

"Of course, bud," he hears Puck say as he sneaks away, standing beside Quinn as he watches Puck show Blaine how to properly hold the guitar.

"I'd say Christmas was a success after all," Mercedes says and they all nod in agreement as Brittany places one of the present bows on top of Rachel's head, much to her displeasure. A hearty laugh from Santana sounds across the room as Rachel stamps her foot on the table as she attempts to get the bow out off of her head, her hair sticking to the adhesive.

"You could say that."

New Years comes and goes as a blur of alcohol, streamers and noise-makers as everyone is crammed inside Quinn and Brittany's apartment. It's enjoyable, being together and having some time off of work, but Kurt knows he has a ton of work ahead of him.

Knocking on the apartment of Quinn's apartment, he opens the door with the spare key before he hollers out a greeting.

"Hello, anyone home?" he asks as he steps through the door and closes it behind him. He's greeted by the sight of Puckerman sitting on the couch, guitar in his lap. An excited Blaine sits on the edge of the small living room table in front of the couch and turns his head to Kurt, smiling wide and waving.

"Hi, Kurt!" he grins, adjusting the strap of the guitar on his shoulder. "Puck's teaching me songs to play!"

"Really?" Kurt leans against the wall and crosses his arms. "Any good ones?"

"Why do you always question my music taste?" Puck asks and Kurt rolls his eyes.

"I've known you since high school," Kurt says as he pushes himself off the wall, "Your Glee club choices were less than spectacular." He smiles and Puck sticks his tongue out at him before Quinn comes out from her bedroom.

"Ready to go?" she asks him and he nods.

"Where are you to going?" Puck asks as Blaine strums as little tune on his guitar that sounds a lot like The Beatles' _Blackbird_.

"To get Quinn's hair cut," Kurt says simply and rocks on the balls of his feet.

"We should be back before Brittany gets back from teaching her dance class," she says and they wave goodbye, the melody still ringing in Kurt's ears.

"Rachel is going to _freak_," is the first think Kurt says when they walk out of the salon, Quinn's hair at her ears, messy and ruffled.

The blonde smiles and runs her hands through it as they walk down the sidewalk, the cold January air hitting their skin.

"I think it's a nice change," she says and shoves her hands in her pockets, protecting them from the cold.

"Don't get too crazy," Kurt says and shoves his own hands deeper into the pockets of his own jacket. "Next thing you know you'll be dying it pink."

"Are you _sure_you're going to be able to get this all done?" Blaine asks, concerned, as he sits next to the sewing machine on the table, idly playing with a piece of loose thread in his hands.

"I always do." Kurt smiles as he looks down at Blaine before he turns his attention back to his work on the sewing machine. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." He promises and hears Blaine chuckle from beside him.

"Fine, I believe you, but don't let Rachel or Santana rope you into making anything for them while you have work to you!"

"And what about you?" Kurt side eyes Blaine as he works with a smile and Blaine goes red.  
"I'm the exception." Blaine twists the thread around his fingers a little more and Kurt laughs.

"You're the exception," he agrees before there's a knock at the door. Kurt stops his work and raises an eyebrow as he exchanges a look with Blaine before the little borrower climbs into his hand and Kurt makes his way to the door.

He places Blaine on the small table before the door, Blaine scurrying behind the small bowl where Kurt puts his keys, and gives Kurt a small thumbs up before Kurt opens the door.

"Hey Doll face!"

Kurt blinks a few times, mouth hanging open as he stares at the dark-skinned girl who stands in his doorway. The _human_sized girl who stands in his doorway.

"S-_Santana_?" he breathes and she pushes her hand off of his doorframe where she had been leaning and puts her hands on her hips.

"That would be me!" she smiles and Kurt gapes, staring wide eyed before her smile softens and before he knows it her arms are wrapped around him, holding him close.

"I don't know what's going on," Kurt admits as he hugs her back and she laughs lightly in his ear.

"Santana?" comes a small voice from behind them, and Santana pulls away, looking at Blaine who has come out from his hiding place behind the back of the key bowl, wringing his hands in front of him.

"Hey, Sunshine," Santana smiles as she walks inside and Blaine weakly smiles back as Kurt closes the door behind her.

"Hi," Blaine toes at the table beneath him and Santana holds out her hand on the table for Blaine to step into. He's a bit cautious at first, stalling before he walking onto her hand and holds onto her thumb before she brings her hand and him up to her face for a kiss.

"'Tana!" Blaine protests with a laugh, trying to push her away with his tiny hands, and Kurt smiles, the slight worry leaving his stomach that he didn't realize was there.

"Well that sure was something, huh?" Kurt says as finishes up the last of his work before work the next day as Blaine strums his guitar lightly on the kitchen table. "The way she just… is _normal_like that now?"

"Sure," he says and plucks a few more notes on the guitar, shrugging his shoulder, and Kurt stops his sewing, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the small borrower sitting just a few inches from him. "Whatever."

"What do you mean?" he asks and Blaine shrugs again. "Blaine, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he murmurs before he picks up his guitar and walks away, scaling down the leg of the piece of furniture and behind the couch, leaving Kurt speechless and unsettled.


	3. Chapter 3

"And there she was, just, standing there, _normal sized_, and I swear it was almost as terrifying as meeting her when she was five inches tall," Kurt waves his hand as he explains the previous days happenings to Mercedes over lunch and the girl giggles, behind her hand as she tries to chew her meal.

"Boy, you sure do live an interesting life." She says and takes a sip of her drink and Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Tell me about it," he says and rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"So what about Brittany?" Mercedes asks, "What does she think?"

"To be honest, I never know what Brittany thinks," Kurt admits, "But according to Quinn she's never been happier, and to me that's a good sign. For both of them."

"What about Blaine?"

Kurt takes a slow sip of his drink through his straw before he sighs, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin up on his hand.

"To be honest, he hasn't been doing very well about it. And I can't seem to figure out _why_." He admits, poking at his fries with the finger of his other hand absentmindedly as he looks down at them. "I can understand him being bothered by it, but it seems to be _really_eating away at him."

Mercedes hums in acknowledgment before he looks up at her with pleading eyes.

"I just wish there were something I could do," he admits and Mercedes gives him an apologetic smile.

"Maybe the best thing you can do for him is just… be there for him."

Kurt sits in his living room, curled up on his couch with a cup of tea watching TV, his sketchbook long forgotten on the table, when he feels a small tap on his shoulder. He looks down to see Blaine gently tugging at the fabric of his shirt, holding it lightly in his hand, eyes downcast.

"Blaine?" he asks, sitting up a little higher, "What's wrong?"

"Am I not good enough?" the little borrower asks, his voice small and cracking at the last word and Kurt almost loses his breath.

"What?" he asks, astonished, and leans closer to where Blaine is standing on the back of the couch.

"Because it just feels like I'm never going to be good enough." Blaine looks up at him with his hazel eyes glossy and tear ridden. "Cooper, Santana, Rachel, they're all _leaving me_."

Blinking, Kurt does the first instinctive thing from memory and scoops Blaine up in his hands, holding him close, and Blaine's hands find their way to the fabric of Kurt's shirt again, holding tight.

They sit like that for a moment, Blaine sniffles filling the room as Kurt tries to calm him down without words and soft hushes of encouragement.

"What's going on?" he asks after a while, after Blaine's sniffling has subsided and the grip on his shirt has loosened. He pulls back and Blaine looks up at him for a moment before his eyes downcast themselves again and his tiny eyes find more interest in the pattern of Kurt's shirt fabric.

"Blaine, you never told me what happened with your brother and you don't have to," Kurt says gently and tilts his head to the side, trying to get Blaine to look back up at him, "And I know what happened with Santana is going to be hard to get used to, but she's not going anywhere! She wouldn't leave you or Brittany or Quinn. And as much as you know she'd hate to admit it, Rachel, who—"

"Is normal sized, too?"

"Exactly, she— wait, what?" Kurt blinks and Blaine sighs and looks up at him, shrugging his tiny shoulders.

"It happened a little while ago..." He tells him before he rubs his nose and plops his arm back in his lap and sighs again. "It's just… why them and not me? Or why not them and me, y'know?"

"Oh, Blaine…" Kurt sighs and rubs Blaine's little shoulder comfortingly with his thumb. Blaine leans into the contact and both of them share closed-lipped smiles as they sit in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night.

"Get that thing _away_ from me, Hobbit!" Santana pushes away the sweater Rachel is holding in front of her face and steps away. "I'd look like a _grandmother_."

"It's a _nice sweater_, Santana," Rachel pouts and crosses her arms before she looks over to Kurt for support.

"No way in hell, Berry. We came here with Lady Face for a reason, remember? There's no way I'm getting this fine piece of ass into something that looks that cheap."

Kurt rolls his eyes and continues to browse through the racks of clothing; shopping with now normal-sized Santana and Rachel was a lot harder than he had originally anticipated. Not only had Quinn, Brittany _and_Mercedes had to work, but Puckerman had outright refused, leaving Kurt to deal with the two girls alone in the mall for their first ever shopping experience.

"What about this one?" Rachel asks him, holding up a navy blue sweater with a white carousal horse.

Kurt sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger as she smiles up at him brightly.

"How about we try something that isn't from the toddler section?"

Rachel pouts and puts down the sweater in defeat as they make their way over to Santana who's holding an array of different articles of clothing on her arm.

"I wish Blaine could be here," Rachel says and Kurt sighs and wraps an arm around her still tiny shoulder as she pulls out a halfway-decent shirt from one of the clothing racks. Santana disappears into the dressing rooms with no sign of re-appearing any time soon and Rachel looks up at Kurt sadly before he picks her out another shirt that's actually a lot less horrible.

"Me, too."

"Did you have fun shopping?" Blaine asks from the arm rest of the couch, voice soft as Kurt places his lone bag on the table, and Kurt makes his way over.

"Let's just say it was a once in a life time experience," Kurt gives Blaine a warm smile before sitting down on the couch. "But let's just say I don't want to re-live it any time soon," he says and and Blaine forces a smile back.

"What about you?" he asks, "How was your day?"

Blaine shrugs a tiny shoulder, picking at something nonexistent on his pants.

"Nothing out of the ordinary." He says simply, "I think I might visit Cooper soon,"

"Oh," Kurt blinks, "Well that will be fun,"

Blaine nods before he sighs, hitching a thumb over his shoulder as he stands up, brushing off his pants.

"I think I'm just gonna… go take a nap or something." He shrugs again, and the small smile that was on Kurt's face fades.

"Oh, well. Okay." He says, "Do you want me to wake you for dinner? I was going to get started on it soon."

"No, don't worry about it…" Blaine says softly, "I'm not that hungry."

But when Kurt goes to bed later, careful not to wake Blaine, he can tell the borrower is listening to his every move, wide awake in his small bed on his bedside table, hungry with his mind racing.

"Have you seen Blaine?" Kurt asks as Quinn, out of breath, breathing heavily and staring at her with wide eyes as she opens the door. She simply blinks at him, confused with her head tilted. "He was gone when I woke up and I can't find him and don't know where he is and—"

"Relax," she says with a smile, shaking her head as she laughs and leads him inside after she closes the door behind them. "He's here, he's just… coping,"

Kurt visibly relaxes and Quinn brings them into the living room where Rachel is seated on the couch. Kurt can see Blaine seated on her leg, talking up at her softly as she listens with a bright smile.

When Blaine stops talking to gaze over at Kurt, Rachel turns to look at them, her smile spreading across her face even more.

"Kurt!" Rachel exclaims, and Blaine looks at him with an expression he can't quite read before he gives him a weak smile and waves. "Blaine was just telling me how you finished your collection!" she beams.

"I did," he smiles, and Blaine fiddles with his hands, before Quinn leaves Kurt's goes over and picks the small borrower up gently, away from Rachel, which he visibly looks relieved about.

"Let's go make up some snacks while these two catch up," she says and Rachel's smile grows.

"Excellent! I have so many outfits I want Kurt to make for me!" the brunette says and Quinn rolls her eyes.

"Good luck," she mumbles as she walks by to the kitchen, Blaine snickering behind his hand in her palm.

Kurt rolls his eyes before Rachel grabs a hold of his arm and pulls him down to sit on the couch next to her, fixing her skirt properly before she starts to vigorously explain the outfits she needs for her 'numerous Broadway auditions' and it isn't until then that Kurt can't help but feel the knot in his stomach loosen the tiniest bit by the distraction.

"How is he?" he manages to ask quietly as Rachel trails off about her seventh and possibly most outlandish outfit she's described, and she pauses, looking down at her hands placed in her lap with a short glance before she sadly smiles back at him.

"He's doing okay, I guess," she shrugs and fiddles with her hands, "He just doesn't know what to do with himself… He's lonely."

Kurt sighs and leans back against the couch, closing his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I wish there was something I could do," he says, "I just feel… helpless," he says, and he feels Rachel lean back on the couch as well, slowly but surely, until her head is resting on his shoulder.

"You're not the only one," she admits softly and Kurt moves his hand and places it over hers, giving it a squeeze. "I just want to see him smile again,"

"Me too," he says, "Me too."

"I just don't know what to _do_," he admits, talking to Puck on speaker phone as he works on a sketch in his office, and he hears Puck hum in acknowledgement on the other line. "I've been giving him space, and I know work hasn't been helping with us spending time together, but I don't know what else I can do,"

"I dunno, dude, it's not like you _haven't_done anything, y'know?" the other man says and Kurt hears him tuning his guitar on the other end. "I just think the little dude needs to figure this one out on his own."

"But what if he _can't_, Noah," Kurt sighs and he can practically see Puckerman pursing his lips and running his hand over his stupid Mohawk.

"Then he's got a fantastic support group," he says after a while, and if he were there in the office Kurt would smack him on the shoulder with a smile until Puck messed up his hair.

However, it's then that his phone beeps, and Kurt looks over to have his heart almost stop in his chest.

_Have you seen Blaine?_

The text message flashes across his phone and Kurt's stomach drops as he swallows hard before he grabs his phone off of his desk.

"Kurt?"

Puck's voice brings him back to his senses and after a few tries he finally finds his voice. "I'm gonna have to call you back," he says.

"Is everything okay?" Puck asks, and Kurt is numb, his heart racing as he clenches his eyes shut and re-opens them.

"No,"

"Kurt, what's—"

"I'll call you back!" he practically shouts into his phone before he hangs up, quickly heading back to his messages.

_No, I thought he's been with you?_

He texts Quinn back, his hands shaking. He doesn't bother to continue the sketch he had been working on, his trembling limbs and sinking stomach too distracting and inconvenient to concentrate.

He figures he should call Quinn instead of texting her. It would be a lot easier, he thinks, he could get his answers. But before he can pick up his phone again to call, his phone beeps again.

_I haven't seen him in a few days… I'll check with Cooper._He receives back and Kurt bites at his thumb before he taps the eraser of his pencil on his sketchbook nervously, his stomach twisting even more.

"Blaine, where are you?" he whispers to himself, the feeling of guilt creeping up inside of him, twisting and overwhelming as he taps his fingers on his desk, impatient.

When he finally can't take it anymore, he picks up his phone and sends out a text to Mercedes with a simple message of _SOS_. And it's not long before Mercedes is letting herself into his office, concern clearly etched onto her face as she makes her way over to the desk.

"Blaine is gone," he blurts out before Mercedes can even in a word, and she's visibly shocked as she sits on the corner of his desk and places a caring hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, sweetie…"

They sit in silence for a long while, Mercedes rubbing soft circles on Kurt's back for a bit before he gets up and paces the room. That ends up making Mercedes too anxious so he sits down and sketches, his pencil moving frantically across the paper; his lines are choppy, unfinished and not how he usually works, but it's something to do.

Kurt's phone buzzes again and he grabs it quickly, practically throwing the pencil in his hand across the room, and he sighs in huge relief as the words _He's safe; he's with Cooper_appear on the screen. In all honesty, Kurt feels like he's about to cry as he shows Mercedes the text message.

"Praise," she breathes, placing her hand on her chest in relief as a smile stretches across her face.

With a half laugh, half sigh, Kurt rests his head in his hand on his desk and looks up at Mercedes who smiles down at him before she goes to ruffle his hair. He quickly swats her hand away and they both laugh before Kurt sighs, leaning back in his chair.

"How did we ever get ourselves into this?" he asks and Mercedes shrugs.

"Those little borrowers just wormed their way right into our hearts, I guess."

It takes Blaine over a week before he comes back to the apartment complex. A long miserable, miserable week. There were dozens and dozens of clients that required working overtime and work to be brought home, late nights up sewing into late hours of the night, a few stubbed toes and more caffeine fixes than he was willing to admit.

It was a miserable week that Kurt did not wish to repeat.

So when he comes home from work, tired and dragging his feet, wishing to be enveloped by his warm bed, he's not expecting Blaine to be sitting on the kitchen table. It's so much of a surprise, in fact, that Kurt almost drops his bag on top of him.

"You're back!" he practically yells and Blaine smiles weakly up at him, seemingly smaller than normal.

"Y-yeah," he says quietly, looking down at his lap before up at Kurt's shocked face again.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Of course not!" Kurt says immediately, dropping his bags on the floor before pulling out a chair and sitting at the table, leaning in close and smiling a genuine smile so bright he feels the tears forming in the back of his eyes. "Of course not, Blaine, no, never!"

Blaine breathes a chuckle and plays with his hands in his lap for a moment. He seems timid and shy, like he's caved in on himself in the time he's been gone. But there's a certain glow about him that's back that had been gone; something is different, something Kurt can't place.

"I didn't mean to worry you," Blaine says softly, "I just—"

"Don't worry about it," Kurt interjects, "I just wanted to know you were safe, okay? Just," he sighs with a smile, "I just wanted to know you were safe."

"Okay," Blaine smiles lightly again, a little brighter now, reaching his eyes just a little bit more, just enough so to make Kurt know that it's genuine and real and that Blaine is okay, and Kurt returns it again, sighing with a little relief.

"Okay."

"I just want some answers," Kurt sighs as he sits on the couch of Quinn's apartment and the blonde looks at him for a moment as she bites her bottom lip, keeping quiet.

"What?" he asks, "He was gone for over a week, Quinn. Something is up, okay, I need to know what it is. I need to know if I can do something…"

"Go see Cooper," she says simply, and Kurt sits up from his slouched position on the couch. "He always knows what to say to Blaine. Maybe he'll know what to say to you."

She gets up from her seat next to him and goes over to the table and takes out a piece of paper, scribbling something down before handing it to him. He stares at the address for a moment before he looks up at her.

"Just trust me on this, okay?" she says and he stares back and nods.

"Okay," he says, and swallows a small lump in his throat, "I will."

Kurt stands in front of the doorway of the apartment and wrings his hands together nervously. He had followed the directions to the address Quinn had written down on the piece of paper, which turns out to conveniently only be a block away from their apartment complex. He doesn't know what to expect, he doesn't know what's on the other side of the door, and it's really unsettling his nerves.

All he knows is that he wants answers. He wants to know how and why Santana and Rachel are suddenly… _normal_sized and why Blaine isn't. He wants to know why it's making the little borrower so upset and what he can do to fix it. Because he just wants Blaine to smile again. Quinn said to trust her. And why shouldn't he? Everything she's done for him over the past few months has never led him astray, especially when it has come to things regarding Blaine. So with a few quick knocks on the apartment door, Kurt, attempts to find his answers.

It takes a few moments, his heartbeat loud in his ears, before a man opens the door. The man's blue eyes meet his before he smiles, bright and glowing, before Kurt speaks.

"H-hello. Uhm." Kurt stars, regaining himself, "I'm looking for Cooper?" he asks, and the man chuckles.

"You must be Kurt."

"Yes…um…How did you—?"

"Quinn called." He says, and steps back, allowing Kurt to step by. "Come on in."

Kurt steps into the apartment, very similar to his own. His eyes scan the apartment as he takes in the décor and admits to himself that it could most definitely be worse, before he's being lead into the living room.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" the man asks and Kurt shakes his head.

"No, no, thank you, I'm fine." He says and he's greeted with another smile before he sits down on the couch, the other man sitting on the loveseat across from him.

"Polite. I can see why Blaine likes you." He says as he leans back against the cushions.

"You know Blaine?" Kurt blinks and the man blinks back as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course I know Blaine. He's my brother." He says before it looks as if he's holding back a smile.

Kurt blinks a few more times in realization before he opens his mouth and closes it again.

"So you're—"

"Cooper Anderson, the one and only. Well, in this situation I guess," He laughs and Kurt blinks again.

"But how?" he asks and Cooper gives him an apologetic smile.

"Are you sure you don't want that drink?" Cooper laughs as he sits down, running his fingers through his hair as he leans back against the couch.

"You see, us borrowers… We're a little difficult sometimes," Cooper laughs.

"Us?" Kurt questions.

"Sorry, old habits die hard," he smiles brightly and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. It's then that Kurt understands.

"So, you were a borrower before…" he says and Cooper nods with a smile. "What happened?"

The sound of the door opening again distracts them both and a voice sounds through the living room, followed by footsteps and the closing of the door.

"Coop, I'm home!" the voice says, and a young woman walks in, sifting through the mail in her hands as she walks into the living room, heels clicking on the wooden floors. "Hey, hun, how was your—"

She stops before she finishes her sentence, looking up and seeing Kurt sitting in the loveseat seemingly stopping her in her tracks.

"She happened." Cooper smiles and Kurt blinks again, trying to understand once more.

"Oh," the girl says as her hazel eyes copying Kurt's blinking. "_Oh!_Is this…?" she asks, pointing a finger offhandedly at Kurt before she puts down the mail on the small table behind the loveseat.

"Kurt, I'd like you to meet Aria," Cooper says, and the girl named Aria comes around the couch with her hand outstretched. "Aria, this is Kurt."

"I've heard a lot about you," she says, smiling as she tucks some of her dark hair behind her ear. "From Blaine." She clarifies as Kurt shakes her hand.

"I'm flattered," Kurt smiles, "And it's a pleasure, but…" he trails off as she lets go of his hand and sits next to Cooper on the couch, crossing her legs. "I'm still not quite sure I understand…"

Cooper takes a moment before speaking, lacing his fingers together in front of him as he places the pads of his thumbs together. Aria seems to be getting ready to hear him speak almost as much as Kurt, watching him intently from where she sits.

"As you know, borrowers are, in a sense, exactly like human beings, only miniature sized," Cooper starts, and Kurt nods in agreement. This he obviously understands, or he thought he already did. "But there are other things that are different,"

"What kinds of things?"

"Emotion wise, it becomes a bit difficult to handle," Cooper seems to sense that Kurt has no idea what he's talking about so he continues, "It's not in the Peter Pan 'fairy' or "pixie" sense where we can't handle more than one emotion at a time. It's just that things are much more… intense," he continues, waving his hand dismissively.

"We're not like most people when it comes to love," Cooper laughs lightly, seemingly finding the whole situation amusing as he shakes his head calmly before he runs his fingers through his hair again.

"Meaning?"

"Once you fall in love with someone, it's very, very difficult to fall in love again. In fact, most borrowers never do. It's almost like a one-time deal; no refunds or exchanges kinda thing, y'know? It's sort of risky, but it could ultimately be worth it," he says as he shrugs his shoulder.

"The person we fall in love with could also have the power to change whether or not we stay a borrower, depending on their size." He says and glances over at Aria who gives him a small smile, which he returns, and she places her hand lightly on his leg.

"Is that what happened with you?" Kurt asks, and they both nod before Cooper faces him again. "Blaine and I had just left our parents and found the building where you are now. We met Quinn and Brittany—"

"And I happened to live in the apartment right under them," Aria pipes in and Cooper smiles. "Blaine and I had been snooping around, investigating our new surroundings, and ended up in her apartment. And the second I saw her, well. That was it." He shrugs, "We spent more time together and as the months went on, we just. Knew." He says and Kurt knows that that look in his eyes. He saw it in Santana's, and in Rachel's. He could feel it coming from Quinn and Brittany when they were together and everything is slowly starting to make sense.

"And then, one day, it just sort of… happened. And I was a normal sized human being. And that was that."

"So is that why Santana and Rachel grew? Because of Quinn and Brittany?" he asks and Cooper nods.

"Seems that way,"

"And what about Blaine?" Kurt asks, because he has to be sure, "I came here to get answers, but I'm worried about him," he swallows and Cooper's eyes downcast along with Aria's as the older man leans back into the couch again.

"I know you're worried about him, too." Kurt says. "What can I do to help?"

"I think you know the answer to that now, Kurt," Cooper says softly, and they lock eyes before a shiver runs down Kurt's spine. "Your choice now is whether to act on it or not."

After Kurt leaves with a giant hug from Aria and a promise to visit again soon, he heads back to his own apartment with a heavy feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach.

This crazy web is seemingly staring to unravel, only it's starting to wrap around him instead. He vaguely remembers when life wasn't so difficult; when such things as tiny borrowers didn't exist and the idea of love turning them into normal sized people was just a thing of pure imagination.

But this was reality and Kurt wasn't sure if he would rather fall down a rabbit hole into nonsense.

When he gets to his apartment, Quinn and Rachel are standing at his door, both looking upset and flustered. He raises an eyebrow and the girls share a look before he stops in front of them, hesitant.

"What's going on?" he asks, and Quinn sighs, reaching out to take his hand.

"We tried to tell you," Rachel says quietly, looking up at him with her big, brown eyes and Kurt's stomach flips.

"What are you talking about?" he says, his voice getting higher.

"Your phone was off," Rachel continues and his grip on Quinn's hand becomes tighter. "We tried to call you!"

"Kurt, listen," Quinn gives his hand a reassuring squeeze and Kurt directs his gaze towards her calming voice. "While you were out, Blaine said he was going to spend some more time with Cooper and didn't know when he was going to be back," she says, and Kurt blinks, not understanding. "Or… if he was coming back."

"He left when you were heading back so you wouldn't have to cross paths," Rachel says quietly, down casting her eyes as she tucks some of her long, dark hair behind her ear. Quinn shoots her a look before she turns back to Kurt, eyes full of sympathy and concern.

"He said it was for the best." Quinn takes Kurt's hand in both of hers and holds on tight as a cold, numb feeling starts to spread from his stomach and fill the rest of his body.

It's a cold, rainy day and the puddles do nothing for Kurt's Doc Martin's as he walks down the sidewalk to his apartment. His hair clings to his face; clothes stuck to his skin, restricting him, his umbrella long forgotten at his office. He feels numb, shivering from the breeze that sweeps through the buildings but he doesn't take much notice. The only thing he cares about is getting back to his apartment; back to warmth and comfort and hopefully _Blaine_.

He climbs the staircase, leaving wet footprints in his wake for the first couple of steps. The sound of the key in the lock when he gets to the door seems too loud in his ears, the door too loose on its hinges when it swings open, too distant when it closes behind him.

Kurt is a mess.

He hasn't seen Blaine in over three weeks, hasn't been able to tell him that yes, yes he's in love with him. It's taken him long enough to realize it, taken him six long months to figure it out and get it through his skull, that he was in love with Blaine within the first week of knowing him, regardless of the fact that he's _five and a half inches tall_.

Kurt strips off his clothes, leaving him in a pile on the floor in his room before he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from his drawers. His skin is still cold, but the clothes are warm, and at least it offers some sort of comfort, something to make him feel less empty.

He crawls on top of his bed, grabbing the blanket folded at the bottom and throws it on top of himself, curling his knees to his chest. He sinks into the mattress, letting his tiredness overtake him. Listening to the rain and wind outside of his window mixed with the sounds of the city drifts him off.

He's awoken a short time later by the light call of his own name, and for a moment, he's not even sure where he is.

He rubs his eyes, blinking them a few times before his sight comes into focus, groggy and drained.

"Kurt?" the voice is closer now, a little more bold and brave, and Kurt's eyes focus on the small body standing next to his pillow.

"Blaine!" he gasps, sitting up. The blanket falls off of his shoulders and onto his lap and he looks down at Blaine who looks just as tired as he does, just as worn down and broken, and Kurt's heart almost breaks in two. "I.. How.. What're you—"

"I came to say goodbye," Blaine says softly, finding more interest in the threads of Kurt's pillow than anything else in the room and Kurt swallows hard and dry in his throat.

"What?"

"I'm leaving. I'm going to go find another apartment building with some other borrowers… I just. Need a change, y'know?" Blaine tries to smile, a light little laugh that's trying to be positive and see the bright things in life and Kurt wants to shake him.

"You can't go," he says, but Blaine doesn't look up, just sighs and turns around, his voice barely audible to Kurt's ears.

"I have to."

"No," Kurt gets up from the bed and makes his way over to the other side, kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed. He looks at Blaine who can now meet him eye to eye at this level, and Kurt puts his hands around him resting his thumbs on Blaine's shoulders.

"You can't go," Kurt chokes out, voice breaking as he finds it harder to breathe. "Look at me." He says, "You haven't been here for almost three weeks, and just look at me! Look at you!"

Blaine's staring at him with wide eyes, frozen to the spot where he stands on the mattress, and Kurt's never seen him so small.

"Thinking of a life without you is unbearable," he admits and his eyes are watering now, tears threatening to fall from the edges with each passing moment. "I try to picture my life without you Blaine, and I can't_breathe_," he admits, his voice shaky as a few small tears escape his eyes and roll down his cheeks.

"And I've been stupid….god I've been so _stupid_, Blaine…" he laughs despite himself, shaking his head at his own foolishness. "Because it's taken me this entire time to finally realize how much I _truly_love you."

The tiny gasp from Blaine is still audible enough to Kurt's ears, even if he hadn't meant it to be, and that's all it takes for Kurt's heart to swell.

"Kurt…"

"Blaine, you have to believe me," he sniffs. "And I'm so sorry I took this long to admit it, but you _can't_leave." He chokes, rubbing his thumbs across Blaine's shoulders gently as he leans his head in closer. "I don't think I could stand it if you left. I really don't."

Blaine places his hands gently on Kurt's face, rubbing the tears away as they fall from his eyes, and he feels Blaine's lips against his nose, light and soft.

"Okay," he feels the little borrower breathe soft against his face, "I'm not going anywhere," Blaine whispers, and Kurt sniffs again, clenching his eyes shut as trails of "I love you's'' fall from his lips over and over.

"I love you, too." Blaine says, "I always have." and Kurt feels Blaine's tiny forehead pressed against his, small and reassuring, and for right now, that's all he needs.

"You should get cleaned up. Take a shower or something," Blaine suggests a little while later and Kurt makes a noise of acknowledgement. His knees are hurting, having spent a long time getting aquatinted with the hardwood floor. He lifts his head and looks at Blaine, tired, but feeling the most content he's felt in days, and lifts himself from the floor, lifting Blaine in his hands as he goes.

Blaine goes to rub his nose against his, adorable and compact, before there's a shift in the air. Kurt doesn't quite understand it, but Blaine's eyes go wide and suddenly Blaine isn't in his hands anymore.

His arms now are around Blaine's shoulders, broad and wide and _whole_. Blaine is staring at him, his hazel eyes burning right through him, as he feels two strong arms take a hold around his waist, strong and secure, and Kurt's lost the ability to breathe.

When he catches his breath, Kurt starts to laugh. Slow at first, gradually getting louder before he gets to the point where he's crying again, the tears streaming down his face once more. The laughter is shaking his body in waves and his vision is blurred, because even after Blaine has grown into a normal sized person, he's still _shorter than Kurt_. And for some reason, above all else, Kurt finds this the funniest thing in the entire world. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Kurt," Blaine chuckles, soft and sweet, as he thumbs away the tears falling down Kurt's now rosy cheeks; Kurt laughs again before he reaches up and runs his fingers through Blaine's hair behind his ears, fingers playing with his curls.

Blaine rests their foreheads together and pulls them closer, and Kurt takes a breath through his nose, full and deep, and just _Blaine_.

Blaine, who usually spent the majority of his time in the pockets of his clothing, Blaine who has taken a bath in one of his coffee mugs, Blaine who he has roasted marshmallows with on his stove when the power went out. Blaine who had stolen scoops of Kurt's hair gel from his vanity.

Blaine, the little borrower who lived in his walls.

Blaine, the perfectly (if not still vertically challenged) normal sized human being, who is now staring at Kurt with those hazel eyes that make his heart beat faster and slower at the same time.

Blaine moves in slowly and Kurt doesn't object. He can feel Blaine's hot breath on his face, kind and inviting and real. And when Blaine presses their lips together, gentle and warm, everything is perfect.

"I love you," Kurt says against Blaine's lips and he can feel Blaine smile. "I love you, I love you, _I love you_."

"I've always loved you," Blaine whispers and kisses Kurt again, deep and slow, and Kurt feels himself melting under his touch. "Always."

Kurt's fingers tighten in Blaine's hair, pulling him closer, because he can. Because Blaine is _real_, and _life-sized_, and _everything he's ever dreamed_.

"You've done so much for me," Blaine breathes as pulls back, resting their foreheads together. "Now let me take care of you," he says, and Kurt has to fight back the noise that tries to escape the back of his throat. "_Please_, let me take care of you."

"Okay," Kurt breathes, swallowing hard in his throat as he clings to Blaine's shoulders, "Yes, okay… yes."

As they lie on the bed together some time later with their legs intertwined, Kurt can't help but break the silence with a small laugh.

"What?" Blaine asks, searching Kurt's eyes with his own as Kurt's thumb traces along the other boy's collar bone.

"Nothing," Kurt smiles, "I just can't stop staring at you." He admits and Blaine smiles back, bright, big, and promising.

"You're weird."

"Says the boy who used to be five inches tall."

"Five and a _half_."

_End._


End file.
